A Fine Soldier (A New Way Story)
by Kaer Morhen
Summary: A continuation of A New Way of Life, Ves comes to Kovir to get a new start with Roche, not expecting what would come.
1. A New Home

**_Docks at Pont Vanis_**

 _Ves stepped off the ship and looked up and down the boards. It was busy. Trade routes had been quickly restored and the relations between the countries had slowly begun to normalize. She had found herself at a loss when she received a letter from Roche, asking her to come to Kovir. Come to Kovir. What was he thinking? What would she do there? Could things ever be the same as they once were? But here she was because…why? Because she missed him._

 _She stood in the waning warmth of the sun at the docks of Pont Vanis. A group of soldiers passed by, some giving her a good look over. When they cleared the path that's when she saw him. He was in a very fine uniform. Apparently, he held a rather prestigious position. His gaze finally landed on her and he took quick steps in her direction. Ves felt her pulse quicken at his approach. Wait, what? This was Vernon Roche._

 _"Really Ves, could you cover up a little?" Oh yeah, this was Vernon Roche._

 _"You haven't seen me in over a year and that's all you can say?" She asked with a laugh. Roche raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. Ves felt overcome with something a bit ridiculous. Oh, what the hell…_

 _She reached up and grabbed his fancy collar and yanked him down to her and kissed him. Roche stood unmoving for a moment before the kiss began to stir something in him. It had been some time since he had kissed a woman. And then this wasn't just any woman. This was Ves. He closed his eyes and gripped her shoulders leaving space between them as he surrendered to her expert care. Best damn soldier indeed. Ves broke off and released him._

 _"Ves…" Roche said, a little breathless and more than a little surprised._

 _"I'm a soldier, Roche. I don't know anything else. But I am also a woman."_

 _"I noticed."_

 _"Did you?" she asked a bit sarcastically. He reached over and pulled the ties on her shirt._

 _"Yeah. I asked you here for a reason." And he had. The longer she was gone, the more he realized it wasn't just her presence as a great soldier that he missed. They were partners and friends. And now…_

 _"I didn't exactly come alone."_

 _"Y-you…didn't?" Roche stammered. Ves looked over her shoulder to a little girl of about seven sitting on a crate._

 _"Thaler and I rescued her from a bunch of drunk witch hunters before they killed her. Or worse. Her family had been murdered and she had nowhere to go…so I kept her with me." An orphan. That struck a chord with Roche and he nodded approvingly._

 _"I'm not sure what I'll do now that there are no more Blue Stripes, Roche, but I'll find something…"_

 _"Ves."_

 _"Yes?"_

 _"Charles could always use someone to train our recruits. You're the best damn sharpshooter I've ever seen and could teach these boys a thing or two."_

 _"That sounds great."_

 _"And Ves…"_

 _"What?"_

 _"It's Vernon." Ves laid a hand over the medals pinned to his chest._

 _"I know."_

Roche strode down the road with Ves at his side holding the little girl's hand. He kept a little distance between himself and Ves. The further they walked from the docks, the more inwardly agitated he became. He was happy to see her and once again be in her company. All this time without her felt a little like working without his right arm. But that kiss…that kiss threw him. It seemed alright at the time, and it wasn't like the thought never crossed his mind over the last few years, but twenty minutes later…he was starting to wonder.

They approached the market district with its plentiful stands and shops and multitude of people. Roche skirted the square and headed for a wider street lined with adjoining houses, typical of a large city. The houses were not very large but they certainly were not small. The varying colors of stone and brick that made them was clean and not a single broken pane of glass was to be found. Roche approached a dark wood door carved with a dragon, the white stone around it accentuating the beauty of the carving.

"What are we doing here?" Ves asked. Roche paused with his hand on the knob and he looked over his shoulder at her.

"I live here. This is my house." His house. It still sounded strange, but he liked it here. Kovir had given him a renewed purpose and his position as the head of intelligence kept him from living in a field tent. Rowain had sent him a sizable reward for his work in freeing Redania from the mad king and with it he had bought this house. The door swung open revealing a plump, pleasant looking woman with fine wrinkles around her eyes and greying hair, an apron tied around her waist.

"Mr. Roche! You're back! I was just heading to the market." She turned her beaming smile on Ves. "You must be Ves. I'm Mrs. Sobek. It's quite fine to meet you. I have heard all about you." Ves glanced up at Roche who looked a bit awkward. "And who is this little mite?" Mrs. Sobek bent down to see the girl but she hid behind Ves, peering around her hip.

"I'm afraid we don't really know," Roche replied.

"The child must have a name," Mrs. Sobek insisted.

"She won't speak," Ves said with a shrug. "When I found her all her family had been killed." Ves left out that she had been sitting among their lifeless bodies, stroking her dead mother's hand while drunken witch hunters debated what to do with her.

"Poor mite. We'll set her right in time. Don't let me keep you. There is cheese and fresh bread if you're hungry." Ves and Roche watched as Mrs. Sobek took small quick steps down the cobbled road toward the market square. Roche gestured toward the open door and Ves and the girl entered the cool shadowed interior.

The room was open to the roof on one side of the house and was one big space from front to back where a huge stone hearth dominated. Furniture was arranged to create a sitting area just inside the door. A table with long benches sat further back for meals. Two closed doors were in the side wall; one led to the pantry, the other to an all-purpose workroom with a wooden tub for laundry and bathing. Immediately to Ves' right was a staircase that led to an open landing with a rail and two more closed doors. Everything was cool, dark wood and light colored fabrics and even though the simple elegance was in stark contrast to Roche's harsh nature, it seemed to suit him.

A few hours later they sat across from one another over a wonderfully prepared meal. Ves ate as much as she dared and the girl beside her stuffed down food until Mrs. Sobek laughed and made her slow down. Meals over the last few months had been sparse and sometimes infrequent. Having food like this on a regular basis was going to make her soft, and not just around the middle.

Mrs. Sobek had hot baths drawn and then left for home, leaving her employer alone with his guests.

"What exactly do you do now? With a house like this and a house keeper, you certainly aren't a field operative anymore." Ves leaned forward with her elbows on the table watching him.

"I'm head of Intelligence."

"Moving up in the world. And are you sure this, Charles, is going to be okay with me training recruits?"

"He's already agreed to it. I also help train, when nothing else is pressing. They already say that if they can survive me, they can survive anything." Roche rose from his seat and adjusted the sword at his hip. "Look, I, uh, have some things I need to see to. Back at the castle." He averted his eyes then in usual Roche fashion, abruptly left. Ves shrugged and looked at the girl.

"Well, I suppose we could go have a look 'round town." Ves stood and went to get the girl's shoes she had kicked off by the door. One of the heavily worn shoes lay on its side, a hole beginning to form in the sole. "Where is your other shoe?" The girl merely shrugged. "I guess it's a bath then." Ves bathed the girl and dressed her in a child's gown borrowed from Mrs. Sobek's granddaughter then put her to bed in the room behind the second door upstairs. The first door led to Roche's bedroom. Ves stood in the well-appointed room and gazed about. The furniture was heavy and very masculine, the bed large. She opened the wardrobe and pulled out one of Roche's shirts. She didn't have anything else to wear. Back downstairs she stepped into the tepid bath and washed. She felt so refreshed yet so very tired. Ves pulled the shirt on over her head, the material soft against her skin. What would he say if he knew she was wearing his shirt?

But he didn't return that night. Or the next. A porter had been sent down from the castle with her uniforms, a fresh pair of boots, and a newly forged dagger imprinted with the Kovir crest. That same evening Ves answered a knock at the door.

"Evenin' miss." The boy handed over some wrapped parcels. "Here are the things Mr. Roche sent for. He said just go to my Pa's shop for anything else you need." He tipped his hat and left. Ves stood there holding the packages. What could Roche have sent for? She closed the door and set them down on a nearby chair. The package on top was a smaller box. Ves untied the twine and lifted the lid. Inside were a new pair of shoes just the right size for their little orphan girl.

* * *

Ves entered the training yard the following morning with much guffawing and catcalling in her wake. The sky began to turn from pink to blue as the men in charge snapped to "get back to it." She found Roche near the archery range talking to a man in the uniform of a King's Guard. Ves wanted to speak with him privately, thank him for the clothes and much needed shoes. Seeing her approach, he stepped back and gestured for her to join him.

"This is Ves. Ves, this is Charles, or rather Captain Davis."

"Pleasure," she said extending her hand. Charles took it in his firm grasp. He was surprised by the lovely young woman before him. He certainty didn't expect her to be either, lovey or young that is, much less both.

"The pleasure is mine. Roche has enumerated your various excellent skills. I hope he wasn't exaggerating."

"He wasn't."

"Modest much?" He said with a raised brow.

"I don't need to be. My skills speak for themselves." She picked up a crossbow from the table and shot and reloaded five times in quick succession. The murmur that spread through the future aspiring arbalests told Charles all he needed to know. That all five of her shots hit dead center. So, Roche hadn't been exaggerating. Ves faced Charles and waited. He nodded.

"Proceed," and he left.

"Roche, where have you been?" Ves asked when the Captain was out of earshot.

"Here. At the barracks. Ves…," he stopped, she could see he wanted to say something but instead he just gestured ahead of him. "They're waiting for you." Ves faced the group of young men and sighed. Roche would have to keep. She strode forward to introduce herself.

"Hello. I'm Ves and I am going to teach you how to shoot. Odds are you won't be as good as me but when I am done with you, you will at least be able to hit what you are shooting at. Grab your weapons and let me see what you've got." Her first day on the job went well. Ves only had to put down two cocky bastards who thought it good fun to grab her arse.

The next several weeks continued in the same uneventful course with little deviation. Roche slept every night and ate most meals with the soldiers in the barracks. Occasionally he would come home for dinner. Ves ate Mrs. Sobek's cooking and slept in Roche's large bed. In Roche's shirt. Alone. One evening Mrs. Sobek sat across from Ves, her brow furrowed with worry.

"Ves, dear, I am concerned for our little mite. I haven't been able to get her say a word. She plays with the other children and seems happy enough, but she still won't speak. Not even to the other kids. I've asked."

"I'm afraid I don't have much experience with children. I don't have a clue of how to fix this." Ves said, slightly defeated. She had tried for months to get her to speak. She knew she could because of the nightmares she used to have. She would wake up screaming for her mother only to clam up as soon as Ves came to her. The nightmares had stopped but she still would not speak. Ves was desperate to help her.

"I might have a suggestion. How do you feel about magic?"

"Depends on who's wielding it."

"A young witch. Not some crack either. She is real. She's the Hunter's wife. Only, most people are afraid to knock on that door, the Master being what he is and all. I believe he and Mr. Roche are friends. You could ask Mr. Roche to ask for you. I'm sure he would."

"Wait, you mean the Master Hunter? That's the Witcher Eskel."

"You know him?"

"Yes. Him and Geralt and Triss. We fought the Wild Hunt together at the witcher fortress, Kaer Morhen. I'll ask Vernon to talk to him."

* * *

Roche sat at a worn table in the Dragon's Nest staring into the bottom of his empty tankard. A rowdy group came in laughing loudly and making bawdy jokes. Roche couldn't help but overhear as they crudely expounded about the virtues of a woman and describing all the things they would like to do to her.

"An' jus' where did you find this perfec' wench? You're suppose to be in training."

"Where'd ya think I found 'er? I tell you wha' that wench can shoot, too. Tho' there's another arrow she should be handlin'!" Their roar of laugher was cut short as Roche grabbed the loudmouth soldier by the throat and threw him against the wall.

"You so much as touch her and I'll personally cut your balls off." The soldier didn't seem to care for this threat and swung out at Roche who ducked and punched him in the gut. The other boisterous men joined in the fight and Roche found himself on the wrong side of the odds until the cold _shhhink_ of steel put an abrupt stop to the brawl. The unruly soldiers left in a hurry leaving Roche alone with the newcomers.

"Well, thanks a lot, but I was about to kick their arses!" Eskel rolled his eyes and returned his sword. Geralt said nothing but shook his head as he sat. There was no doubt that Roche would have beaten all four men to a pulp. Roche was a street brawler, mean and nasty.

"Sit down, Roche, and have a drink."

"I've done that already and you see where it's got me," Roche said, but sat anyway.

"What's wrong, Roche?" Geralt asked. "I thought having Ves at your side would make you a little less…" Geralt searched for the right word.

"…of an ass." Eskel finished.

"And here I thought you two were my friends."

"We are." Geralt said.

"That's why we tell you that you're an ass." Eskel supplied. "Now, what's eating you?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Roche said curtly. "Although…My housekeeper thought that Brinna might be able to help me with a problem. That's why I asked you here."

"What problem?" Eskel asked.

"Nothing dangerous. Ves brought this orphan back with her. A little girl. Problem is she won't speak. Not a word. We don't even know her name."

"Why do you think she won't talk?" Geralt asked.

"Probably because she witnessed her entire village, family included, butchered by the bloody witch hunters. Ves said they beheaded everyone." His voice dropped low. "Even the children. They were drunk and trying to decide whether to kill her or…keep her…when Ves and Thaler found them." The witchers sat quietly as they digested what Roche just told them. Eskel seemed more disturbed by this since his wife, Brinna, had given birth to his daughter, the first biological child born to a witcher.

"I'll tell her," he said softly. "I know she can help."

* * *

A heavy thump at the door alerted Roche that their guests had arrived. He had been sitting at the table with Ves. Roche opened the door to admit Eskel, who looked a bit lethal coming inside from the darkness, followed by Brinna who was her usual smiling self. Roche thought of her as the physical incarnation of light because any room she entered always seemed brighter. The two men nodded to each other and Roche introduced Ves. Brinna, being the complete opposite of her standoffish mate, took Ves' hand in greeting.

"I've heard so much about you. I'm glad you were able to make it safely to Kovir after the war. I would have come to meet you sooner but," Brinna shifted a little bundle in her arms and pulled back the blanket revealing the sleeping infant, "I had just had a baby. Now, tell me about your little orphan." Ves told her tale as the women sat. Roche and Eskel remained standing. Brinna said nothing but listened intently.

"I just wish we knew her name." Ves finished and folded her hands on the table and waited.

"Where is she now?" She asked after some moments.

"Upstairs, playing. Vernon has rather spoiled her," Ves said with a little smile. Brinna looked over at Roche. He crossed his arms and looked at his feet, a rather harsh scowl on his face. He was clearly not used to tender praise. Brinna rose and walked toward the stairs but stopped suddenly. She turned back to the others before continuing.

"Her name is Mira, by the way." Roche looked up sharply.

"How do you know?" his voice hard, but Brinna didn't answer. She went up the stairs and stopped at the second door. She lifted her hand and gently knocked before turning the knob and going in. A little girl of about seven sat in the middle of the bed playing with a carved horse and two dolls, both with real horsehair wigs. Roche had indeed been spoiling her. Beneath that course exterior he apparently had a soft spot.

"Hello, Mira." Mira's head shot up, her eyes wide as if to ask _how did you know my name?_ Brinna sat gently on the end of the bed and laid baby Ella down. She had woken up and was looking around taking in the new sights. Mira crawled over to her and gently touched her cheek. She sat looking at the baby for a long time before finally cracking her shell and speaking.

"We had a baby…" she said sadly, her voice dry from disuse.

"What happened to the baby?" Brinna asked softly.

"Those men came…and then she was gone." Mira paused with her little hands in her lap. "Can…can I hold her?" Mira looked up at Brinna with hopeful eyes. Brinna carefully laid Ella in Mira's lap. Mira cradled her and held her close, rubbing her cheek against the baby's. Tears ran down her face, the long-kept grief for her lost family finally being allowed loose. Brinna observed her for some time in silence. She was quite a lovely child, blond hair and brown eyes. She could easily pass as belonging to Roche and Ves.

"How did you know?" Mira asked, sniffling and wiping away tears.

"Your mother told me." Mira wasn't sure what to make of this statement and looked at her warily. "I am not like other people. I can see things, summon spirits. Your mother is very sad for you. Ves has cared for you and so has Vernon. They brought me here to help you. Your mother wants you to move on and grow up and have a healthy and normal life. Ves and Vernon can give you that. They want to give you that." Brinna waited, letting her words sink in. "Why have you not spoken all this time?" Mira shrugged.

"I dunno. I missed my family," Mira said as fresh tears began to flow.

Brinna descend the stairs and handed Ella to her father before speaking. Ves and Roche were visibly agitated at having to wait.

"She will speak now. Mira felt like she was somehow being untrue to her family by coming with you. You could say she feels guilty for having survived." Roche visibly relaxed but was full of questions.

"How did you know her name? What did you say to her?"

"Mira was the youngest of five children and the only girl. Her mother recently gave birth to a baby girl and Mira was very attached her sister. I know this because I sought out her mother when Eskel told me about her. I knew then that Ella would be able to loosen her protective shell. But now she needs the two of you, not as a replacement for her parents, but to pick up where they left off." Brinna laid a hand on Eskel's arm and they left.

The sound of small footsteps on the wood stairs made Ves turn. Mira walked toward them and stopped as she reached the table. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"Thank you. For saving me." Ves was out of her seat and wrapping her arms around Mira, holding her tightly. She had become so attached to this girl. She loved her and wanted to take care of her. She would never have children of her own but she could be a mother to Mira. Ves released her and Mira made her way over to Roche as he sat on the bench. She stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. Ves had to laugh at the expression that followed. His eyes widened and he looked shocked, all the hard lines had completely disappeared from his face. Mira grinned at him and he did something surprising. He grinned back then kissed the back of her little hand.


	2. Friends and Lovers

Ves was sitting in one of the more comfortable chairs as Mira helped Mrs. Sobek prepare dinner. Mira was so changed and happy now that she had finally grieved her family. For several weeks, Mira would cry herself to sleep at night and Ves or sometimes Roche, if he was home, would just hold her. Now there was only Roche left to deal with. Ves thought that in helping Mira, Roche would settle down long enough for them to figure out what was going on between them. But he continued living between the soldier barracks and his own home. Ves still couldn't believe she had kissed him on the docks. If only she could take it back…would she want to? Roche came through the front door, head down against the encroaching cold, obviously in a bit of a hurry.

"Roche," Ves said but he kept going. He headed straight up the stairs and into his room, or what used to be his room. He hadn't slept in his own bed since Ves arrived. Heading for his desk on the far wall, he stopped short at the foot of the bed. One of his shirts lay on the smoothed counterpane. He picked it up. He hadn't worn it and certainly hadn't left it there. But he knew who had. Roche lifted the soft gauzey cotton to his face and inhaled. Her scent lingered on it. A scent he knew so well. Even her sweat was sweeter than that of a bunch of unwashed male soldiers. He recalled a time just a few years ago, when Ves had purchased a bar of soap perfumed with tea leaves. She smelled like a forest after a fresh rain and it drove him mad. They'd had a little too much to drink one night and he thought that maybe…he and Ves…but as he watched her laugh over the fire that night, he realized how young she was. He stopped drinking so much booze after that. No need to make a fool of himself.

Footsteps on the stairs alerted him and he dropped the shirt then moved to his desk to rifle through the drawers.

"Roche," Ves said from the door just as he found the letters he had originally came for.

"Here they are…" he said, trying to ignore Ves. He rolled them up and slipped passed her, going down the stairs. He succeeded in reaching the front door.

"Vernon!" He couldn't ignore her when she called him by his given name. Never could.

"What?!" He yelled back as he spun around to face her.

"We need to talk." Ves said calmly.

"About what?"

"The fact that you never come home for one." Roche just looked at her, the vision of the radiant, laughing young woman clouded his vision. He knew what she was asking and he just couldn't do it. He shook his head and left.

"Why that…hard-headed…" a gentle voice intruded on her search for a proper insult.

"Ves, dear, come and have a bit of dinner." Ves did as bid and smiled as Mira proudly assisted with laying the table. Once dinner was set, Mrs. Sobek would usually hang up her apron and return home on the other side of the market square, but tonight she sat across from Ves. She reached her slightly wrinkled hand over the table to touch the younger woman's arm.

"Give him time. A man like Mr. Roche doesn't adjust to change very well. He is so driven and single-minded. And he isn't as hard a man as he would have the world believe."

"I know he's not. I just wish he weren't so…"

"Stubborn? Would he be the same man if he weren't? Just give him time." Ves let the matter drop and a few days later a boy brought a package "sent by Mr. Roche." Ves gave the boy a coin and opened the small box. Inside was a gift that affirmed that she had fallen in love with him. It was so simple and yet meant so much it made Ves want to cry. Inside the box was a bar of tea leaf soap.

* * *

Ves gave him time. Lots of time. All winter long as a matter of fact. She didn't push him or try to talk to him about anything personal. When they did speak, it was usually in the training yard which was all business. He rarely came home and he engaged Mira when he did. The girl relished his attention, and Ves was not so desperate as to divert him from Mira.

The worst of winter came and went and soon a new batch of recruits entered the training yard to begin their illustrious careers in the service of Kovir. Word had spread quickly about the hard-handed Commander Roche and most kept their noses clean lest they be a target for his considerable wrath.

The lovely young sharpshooter was also an item of considerable curiosity. Most just wanted to see if a woman could possibly be as good as everyone said. They found she was better. A few even vied for her attentions. Ves promptly informed them that fraternization was against the rules. Although she did admit that there was someone else to one rather earnest young Captain. Who did they think they were kidding anyway? These men wanted a woman at home to cook and care for their children. Ves was a soldier through and through and there was only one man who never looked askance at her for it.

One spring morning when training was in full swing, Ves decided that he'd had enough time. She set her recruits to drilling and went in search of Roche. He was walking up and down the line, making mental notes of some of the more superior soldiers. Ves fell in step with him and he began telling her of their plans on forming an elite team, like the Blue Stripes.

"And who is going to lead this elite team?" Ves asked.

"A young Captain from near Dunn. You were speaking with him earlier. He's a natural leader yet knows how to take orders when necessary. Not some hot-head like yours truly," he looked over at Ves with a raised brow, knowing she could appreciate that last statement.

"You haven't done so badly."

"Ah, Ves, there are a number of things I have mucked up because of my temper and stubbornness. If only I had been born a bit more level headed."

"But then you wouldn't be the same man," Ves said softly, remembering Mrs. Sobek's words. Roche regarded her thoughtfully before continuing down the row. Ves continued with him step for step.

"Shouldn't you be busy?" he asked, slightly annoyed.

"They're running drills. Look, Roche, we have to talk."

"Again?" Roche stopped and looked down at her and felt his gut clench. He tamped it down and started walking again. "I've given you all I can," he said tersely.

"I want more." Ves said, keeping pace beside him, which wasn't easy.

"Ves, you live in my home, share my bed…"

"Sharing implies that you are there as well. I have _slept_ in your bed, Roche. That is all."

"This isn't a good time to discuss this," Roche said impatiently looking around at the men as they ran their training drills.

"Then when? We can't ignore this forever. And you have been avoiding me." They stopped walking and Ves waited, hands on hips, watching his back. Roche pinched the bridge of his nose then turned and faced her, grabbing her upper arms giving her a firm shake, his fingers digging into her flesh.

"I'm an old man compared to you, Ves," he said harshly, a mixture of anger and hurt playing across his face. "You are young, vibrant, beautiful…you deserve a young man who won't leave you a widow before your time." He released her and began to walk quickly away from her; away from his own heartache.

"I don't want a young man, Vernon. I want you," she called after him. The clatter of swords and _thunk_ of arrows subsided as those in the training yard stopped at the raised voices. Roche felt his face flush then a small rock hit him in the head. He looked up from where it came to see three witchers looking down from the battlements. Geralt just shook his head as Eskel toyed with a second stone. Lambert straightened up and yelled down to him.

"Don't be an idiot!" Roche stood rooted to the spot for what seemed like an eternity. He thought of all those nights they spent, just the two of them. All the times where she watched his back, on and off the battlefield. He thought of the tea leaf soap. He heard the sound of Ves' boots on the gravel as she started to walked away.

"Ves! Wait." Ves stopped and waited as Roche walked back to her.

"I don't want to force you." She said, pride creeping into her voice.

" _I_ don't want to trap you. I'm a whoreson, Ves. Is that something you really want?" Roche swallowed hard waiting for her response. She gave a small smile and ran a finger down his jawline.

"You're the son of a whore. Not a whoreson. You've never been that, Vernon. Never."

"I fail to see the difference…"

"There is. Trust me." They stood close but not touching. Roche stared down into her blue eyes. Damn she was beautiful. He was drowning in unfamiliar territory. Wooing a woman was not his strong suit. Then again, Ves didn't need much wooing. But apparently, he did. The silence in the yard was deafening. He turned to the soldiers standing around.

"Get back to it, you ploughin' bastards! Stop your gawking and learn to swing those bloody blades or you'll lose your bloody heads!" Ves suppressed a laugh and took a step away but Roche grabbed her and pulled her roughly against him, holding her chin in his hand he kissed her, his unshaven face scraping hard against her soft skin. He abruptly released her.

"We'll finish this later," he said in a ragged voice. "Now go. You have a job to do."

"Yes, sir, Commander." Ves said, humor shining in her eyes. Roche turned back the way he had been going and came face to face with the King.

"Your Majesty. I…well…" Roche stopped talking and cleared his throat. The King just laughed.

"Relax Roche. I didn't see a thing." Tancred patted him heavily on the shoulder and walked on. Roche looked back up to the battlements. This time he was rewarded with the affirmation of the witchers as they nodded their approval. Like he needed it. But still…If they could mix love with their life with the sword, then so could he.

* * *

Ves had preceded him in returning home that evening. She had been half afraid he wouldn't show, but that fear proved heedless. He arrived just as Mrs. Sobek laid dinner on the table and prepared to take her leave for the night. He sat across from her, saying nothing as Mira babbled on as only a little girl can.

Ves shifted in her seat as she ate, Roche's watchful gaze never leaving her. In the time since she came here, he would hardly spare her a glance. That is if he even bothered to come home. But now his brown eyes seemed to pierce her very soul. She knew that look, too. She had seen it before. It was his highly focused, determined look. The look he got when a decision had been made and Roche was not one to second guess himself.

The threesome finished their meal and Ves rose to prepare Mira for bed. Roche stood, still staring hard at her and told her she could use the tub upstairs, he would bathe down. Ves found she couldn't speak and just nodded. She could feel his eyes boring into her all the way upstairs until she closed the door behind her. He was so intense, so driven, so…

Mira settled herself in bed and Ves tucked the sheet around her then laid a gentle kiss on her forehead then she returned to Roche's room and sank herself down into the bath. It felt so good to wash the dust and sweat away on a daily basis. Most of the time she suppressed the more feminine aspects of herself, always had, but it was times like these that she felt most like a woman. She sat until the water went cold then rose, dried and slipped into the shirt she wore at night. His shirt. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror and wondered what he would say.

Roche tied his robe around his waist and walked softly up the dark stairs. He reached the door to his room and paused. And wondered. Would she be waiting for him in bed or would he finally get to see her in his shirt that he knew she wore? Quietly he turned the knob and opened the door. Ves stood in front of the mirror, in his shirt, pulling gently on the laces, the scent of the tea leaf soap hung in the air. He closed the door and Ves turned at the click of the latch. Never the shy one, she met him halfway, stopping just short of touching him. His black hair was surprisingly long and it curled over his forehead and neck. The dark blue robe was partially open to the waist exposing his chest and the dark hair that covered it. Roche looked her over, taking in the curve of her breast beneath his shirt.

"Looks good on you." He said quietly. Ves could feel the deep timbre of his voice even though they were not touching.

"You think?" Ves responded playfully, trying to sound more confident than she felt just then. Roche merely nodded. They stood in silence then both spoke simultaneously.

"Ves…"

"Roche…" They laughed a little then lapsed back into momentary silence that Ves broke.

"What were you going to say?" she asked. When he didn't respond immediately, she looked up and recognized the signs of him being very tightly wound.

"Ves, are you sure this…I…am what you want? I can still leave, but once we do this…" _there is no going back._ He didn't have to say it for her to know. She knew him that well. Instead of answering right away she ran her hand through the black hair covering his chest. He was very fit and firm, despite his self-avowed old age.

"Yes, Vernon. I've never been more sure of anything. And you?" Roche didn't answer in words but ran his hands along her face and brought his mouth heavily down on hers. This was no soft, sweet kiss, but he released his full-blown passion on her, pressing his mouth hard on hers, invading her with his tongue. He felt the belt of his robe loosen, her hands sliding over his body. Releasing her, he shrugged the garment off then reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over her head.

Again, he kissed her and Ves wound her arms around him, pressing their bodies together. Then she felt her feet leave the ground. Roche carried her to the bed and laid her down as he came over top of her, his knees on either side of her hips. He gazed down at her with a wolfish look before lowering himself to her and began kissing her. He moved to her ear, her neck, her breast. Ves let out a moan as he caressed her. He continued downward until he reached the apex of her thighs only to feel her fingers under his chin, pulling him back up. He pressed a knee roughly between her legs. She parted them easily as he settled himself and…

"Oh, gods, Vernon!" He pressed forward, full and hard in one stroke. After recovering from his jarring entry, she tried to roll him over but he held her wrists above her head.

"Uh-uh," he said holding her beneath him, his body thrumming with desire. Normally she would have panicked. She didn't like not being in control, but she trusted him and she surprised herself by giving him full control of her body, giving in to the rough pleasure he was bestowing on her. Roche proved to be just as rough a lover as he was a commander. Ves had suspected as much. The lovers crashed together, their moans of pleasure mingling into one. He was also a very vocal lover. That she had not expected.

Roche rolled off her and pulled her to him, facing him, as they caught their breath. She threw a leg over his hip and nestled beneath his chin. He inhaled deeply, letting her scent invade him. It was a scent he was so familiar with, a body he knew as he had bandaged and stitched her on various occasions. Her voice echoed in his mind. Her warnings, advise, her laughter. He hoped they didn't do the wrong thing. But, somehow, he knew they hadn't.

"You're stuck with me now, Ves." Ves pulled back at laughed.

"When have I not been?" She said, pushing on his shoulder until he lay flat and she straddled his hips. She began to run her hands over him, stroking, teasing. Roche grabbed her hand and pulled her down on top of him.

"I told you, Ves. I'm an old man. I need a little more time." Ves smiled as she rested her head on his chest, his arms coming around her, and drifted off to sleep. A few hours later she was prodded awake as Roche whispered in her ear, "I think I've had enough time…" She slipped atop him and guided him in, his hands resting on her thighs as he gave her full reign. She rode him slowly, drawing out their pleasure. Roche moaned and groaned beneath her fighting the urge to flip her over and pound her into the mattress. Ves collapsed on him as her body pulsed but his hands came to her hips and lifted her slightly.

"Don't stop," he ground out. Ves raised herself back up and moved on him a few more times before he grabbed her, his body going rigid beneath her, and called out rather loudly.

The rays of the early morning sun found Ves and Roche engaged in the lover's dance again. This time a bit slower, less unbridled passion and more…something else.

Ves sat up in bed and watched as Roche moved around the room completely naked. His body was lean and hard from years of field work then living on the run, his skin an even olive color all over. He really was a handsome man. When he wasn't frowning, which wasn't often. He was half dressed when Ves tied his robe around herself and followed the smell of cooking bacon down the stairs. Mrs. Sobek was preparing breakfast with a rather sullen looking Mira at the table.

"Child, whatever is the matter?" She was saying, plying her with bacon, eggs and fresh bread. Mira looked up at Ves.

"Are we going to have to leave?"

"Leave?" Ves asked, confused.

"You and Mr. Roche were fighting. I heard you." Mira insisted.

"Who's fighting?" Roche said coming up behind Ves, slipping an arm around her waist and placing a kiss on her neck. Mrs. Sobek's look of concern instantly changed into a knowing smile.

"You and Ves." Roche released Ves and squatted down beside Mira.

"No one is fighting and you and Ves aren't going anywhere."

"But what about the yelling?"

"What yelling?"

"Last night." Roche went _oh_ , but no sound came out. He stood and looked at Ves.

"Well, I guess you can explain that. I have to go." Ves gave him an arch look.

"Mira," Mrs Sobek said as she handed Roche a chunk of bread with bacon and eggs inside, "sometimes a man and a woman will spend private time together and sometimes they will make sounds that seem like yelling but really aren't."

"Oh. Like when they want to make a baby?" Roche coughed violently as he choked on his breakfast and Ves turned a bright shade of red.

"Well, yes." Mrs. Sobek replied. Mira turned to look at her adopted parents.

"Is that what you were doing? Making a baby?"

"Going _now_." Roche quickly headed out the door.

* * *

That night as Ves and Roche lay in bed, she in the crook of his arm their opposite hands held finger to finger, palm to palm, he asked her about what Mira had said.

"What if you get pregnant, Ves?" Ves laced her fingers through his and pulled his hand down.

"I don't think I can. All the abuse I took from that Scoia'tael commander and his troops…when they were done with me I frequently had blood running down my legs…"

"Ves…" He leaned up and kissed her gently. She shouldn't have to talk about that. He didn't want to hear it because it sent him into a murderous rage and he had already killed the elf. He remembered that night vividly. He had been in command of the Blue Stripes for a little over a year. They had been tracking a particularly violent group of Scoia'tael and finally caught up with them one afternoon. Roche had seen Ves chained to a tree, her long hair was matted and her eyes were haunted and empty. The Scoia'tael troops tended their gear and ate after a night of terrorizing human villages. The commander announced they were staying in camp that night and moving in the morning. The Blue Stripes had sunk back into the forest and waited until cover of night. Roche had been hunting this one for some time. He wasn't going to miss him. The others had been a bit unsure. Hit them now while they are tired from raiding, they said. But no. They had been celebrating and more celebrating would come.

When they struck the camp that night it was a slaughter. The elves were half drunk and were trying to bend Ves over a tree trunk. When she realized what was happening, she fought. Grabbing up a fallen cross bow, she proved to be quite proficient. That was when he realized the Blue Stripes could use someone with that kind of skill. And she had stayed. Through all the horrors of war and murder, she had stayed.

Roche rocked his hips against her, riding out her pleasure before succumbing to his own. He eased to the side and rested his head on her shoulder, the caress of her fingers through his hair making him drowsy. As he slipped off to sleep he thought he heard her say…

"I love you, Vernon."


	3. Some Things Not Forgotten

Spring wore into summer and summer into fall and life continued. The formation of an elite team had been successful and the yard was now full of experienced solders undergoing harder more advanced training. Ves and Roche kept their private life separate from their work but it became widely known that you didn't make a pass as Ves unless you wanted your balls on the wrong end of Roche's sword.

One morning, Roche entered the bedroom as Ves was waking. He went to the wardrobe and pulled out saddlebags and began to pack extra shorts, a shirt and a few other items for the road.

"What's going on?" Ves asked sleepily as she sat up and observed him in the faint light. He was wearing his full official uniform, sword and all. Quite an impressive sight.

"We've received word of some suspicious activity near the Talgar border. The King wants me to go and see what it's all about. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone but…" Roche looked up at her and stopped. Her shirt was unlaced and hung open, the inner curve of her breasts visible in the first rays of morning. Suddenly he grabbed the blanket and yanked it back away from her and stepped up on the bed.

"Vernon, what are you doing?" Ves asked, although she had a distinct idea. He didn't respond but dropped to his knees between her legs. He flipped up the sash at his waist and unbuttoned the fall of his pants. Pulling her to him he covered her, thrusting firmly, the medals and weapons jangled with every move as she lifted her feet off the bed. He slid a hand up her thigh and under her backside, gripping as she finished, pulling him with her. Roche rested for just a moment before rising and righting his uniform.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. A few weeks at most. I hope not that long. You'll be in charge of the yard."

"Are you sure that's wise? Some of them don't exactly like me being there."

"They'll do as they are told. Or I'll kill them when I get back." Ves gave him a shaming look because she knew he wasn't joking, but he didn't care. He grabbed his bags, kissed her one last time and headed out the door.

Ves made her way to the castle training yard. It was now the breeding ground for the elite forces under the close supervision of man who once led a force like it. But he was gone and left her in charge. These men weren't like the Blue Stripes. They didn't know her and didn't want to know her, except in the physical sense. They also didn't believe a woman could be an effective soldier. While, in general, that may be true, there were always exceptions to the rule. In her experience, most women were just not prepared to do the things that she had done as a soldier. But neither had they been forged in a fire of suffering as she had. She thought back, remembering how she had become one of them so many years ago…

 ** _Nearly nine years ago…_**

 _The Scoia'tael were especially rowdy the night Ves was freed from captivity. They were celebrating a very brutal run through a string of human villages and were drunk not long after sundown. She huddled in the shadows as far as her chain would allow, hoping they would forget about her, but they didn't forget. She saw the commander gesture in her direction before one of his soldiers came for her. She knew what was coming. She swallowed hard and buried a small piece of herself deep down._

 _She felt the bark scratch against her thighs as the drunkards bent her over a fallen tree. Ves closed her eyes and waited. The commander always went first. But instead of his rough hands and hard thrusts there were shouts and the sound of steel on steel and the hands that held her were suddenly gone._

 _Pushing up from the tree she retreated to the shadows to watch. A group of men, human men, in blue and white striped uniforms had gotten the drop on the drunken Scoia'tael, but Ves wasn't one to hope. Even a drunk elf was a force to reckon with and men could be just as cruel._

 _She watched what appeared to be the leader of these blue striped men, a lean man with a hard face, mercilessly cut down one elf after another. Then he caught up with the commander. He grabbed the Scoia'tael commander by his hair as he fought with another soldier. Yanking him backward, the man forced the elf to his knees facing the dark corner where Ves hid. He leaned down and with a venomous look, whispered something into the pointed ear before cutting the elf's throat. He released his prey and stood over the body as he bled out. She briefly met the man's gaze and then there was movement behind him. She didn't recall doing it but when it was finished she stood with a crossbow in her hand, the would-be assassin dead, an arrow sunk deep in his eye._

 _The skirmishes died off as the last of the Scoia'tael were cut down. These men were quick and brutally effective. The blue striped commander approached her, calling out orders to the men around him. He stopped a few feet from her. She still held the crossbow and pointed it at his chest. But he didn't try to push it away or take it from her._

 _"I'm Commander Roche. We're the Blue Stripes from Temeria. I serve King Foltest. You're safe now." His voice was deep and harsh, his face in need of a shave. Ves continued to hold the weapon pointed at him. "That's quite a shot you have. I'm impressed." She lowered the point slightly but quickly raised it when he made a move toward her._

 _"I'm not going to hurt you. Why don't we see about getting this chain off." Roche knelt at her feet and she dropped the weapon. Another soldier brought him a set of keys. Roche tried one after another until he found the one that released the iron binding around her ankle. He probed the tender and torn flesh but she didn't care. She was free. But what did that mean for her? She had no idea where she was and no family to return to even if she did. Panic and fear settled in her chest, making it hard to breathe._

 _Roche stood and looked into her eyes. He could see her fear, she couldn't hide it, but beneath it he also saw something else._

 _"What's your name?"_

 _"V-ves," she stammered._

 _"Alright, Ves. Do you have any family?" She shook her head vigorously. "In that case, I'm going to take you back to our camp. You can get cleaned up. We'll tend your wounds and get you some proper clothes and food." Ves stood silent for a moment. There was nothing else for her to do and his statement was more like a command than a request but she believed him when he said he would not hurt her._

 _"Okay," she replied, finding strength from that tiny part of herself that she had hidden away._

 _"Wilks!" Roche bellowed. "With me! The rest of you finish up here. You know what to do." He turned back to her and gestured for her to walk with him but after a few tentative steps it was apparent to him that she would be unable to walk the four miles back to camp, at least not at his pace, so he picked her up and carried her. The entire four miles._

 _When they arrived at camp Roche set her down and gave her an assessing perusal before disappearing into one of the tents._

 _"Well, now, lass, let's have a look at you." The man called Wilks guided her to a stump. He was also a tall man, although he had gone a little soft around the middle. He had fine lines around his eyes and his hair was showing the first touches of grey. He unrolled a tool carrier and pulled out a comb and a pair of scissors. Ves sat perfectly still as clumps of her hair fell around her. When he handed her a shaving mirror to examine his handiwork, she gave a smile of relief. A real smile. She had loved her hair as a girl but it became a weight that pulled her down. Her hair was the reason the elven commander had singled her out in the first place._

 _"Not so bad if I do say so myself. Much better than it was at least. I know it's a little short but it'll grow back out before you know it. When the Commander's done piecing together something decent for you to wear, he's going to take you out to a hot spring to clean yourself up." Ves stiffened at the thought of being alone with a man in the dark. Wilks sensed her alarm and turned a gentle eye on her. "I know the Commander seems harsh, but he's an honest and loyal man and a good leader. No harm will come to you when he's around." Ves relaxed with Wilks' easy manner and with his assurance that she was safe. It was then that Roche emerged from the tent with a burlap bag._

 _"There is a spring nearby, just over the ridge here. Think you can manage?"_

 _"Yes, I think so." He carried the bag in one hand, a lamp in the other as they walked in silence. She noticed that he carefully picked out the clearest path for her to follow with her bare feet. Her mother always told her that actions spoke louder than words and his actions were deafening. She decided then that she liked the Commander, despite his brusque and short demeanor._

 _They arrived at the pool and Ves could see the steam that rose in the moonlight. Roche set the lamp at the water's edge and unpacked the bag, setting out a towel, boots, clothes and a bar of soap before moving to sit on a boulder a few feet away, his back turned. Ves removed her tattered clothing and stepped into the hot water. It burned the raw, broken skin on her ankle but she didn't care. Her heart leapt as she submerged herself, feeling the filth and misery wash away. Surfacing, she picked up the soap and held it between her hands, smelling it. It was the plainest, most basic soap and it smelled wonderful._

 _"Are you alright?" His voice startled her. She had forgotten he was still there._

 _"Y-yes. It's just…it's been awhile."_

 _"Do you feel like talking?" She shrugged even though he couldn't see her._

 _"I guess."_

 _"Tell me what happened." His voice was soft, his tone gentle. She got the impression he did not speak this way often. Ves ran the soap over her arms before answering._

 _"We had a village bonfire that night, celebrating the first harvest. It was particularly good that year. The Scoia'tael came out of nowhere. My father told me to run, so I did. That was the last time I saw any of my family. I ran toward the gate, toward the alderman's house. He had a horse. I remember the fire spreading and hearing the horse whining in fear. That's when I saw the stable on fire. I hid in a small storage building instead. Then he found me. The others wanted to kill me but he said no. He thought I was beautiful and ran his hand through my hair. Said it was just the way he liked it. When they were done killing and looting, they made sure the entire village burned and drug me away. I was sixteen." Ves sighed as she finished her tale. It felt good to tell someone, even if it was a virtual stranger._

 _"How old are you now?"_

 _"Nineteen, as of…seventy-six days ago." She had managed to keep track of time. Maybe that's why she hadn't gone completely insane._

 _"Who taught you to shoot like that?"_

 _"No one, really. I mean, I was taught, but I've always been very good at it." Ves watched his back as he shifted on the rock._

 _"I would like you to consider something. Stay with us. We'll train you to be a Blue Stripe. Someone with your natural talent would be invaluable."_

 _"Who are the Blue Stripes?"_

 _"We are Temeria's elite special forces. King Foltest has sent us to get rid of the Scoia'tael menace. This one, tonight, I've been tracking him for months." She noted the sound of satisfaction in his voice. This was one very determined man._

 _Ves finished bathing and dressed in the clothes provided. Roche dressed the wound on her ankle and she slipped on the boots. Back at the camp, soldiers were starting to return with the spoils, the smell of smoke lingered heavily on their clothes. Roche showed her to a large tent and held the flap open. Inside were trunks of gear and a cot. On the cot was an armored jacket that looked like it might fit her._

 _"This is my tent. You'll sleep here tonight. Think about what I said." Then he was gone. Wilks entered the tent carrying her dinner; some dried meat, hard cheese and bread._

 _"Sorry, lass, but it's only traveling rations and I know you could do with a bit more than that. We'll have proper meals once we reach Vizima."_

 _The following morning, Ves rose and put on the jacket and stepped outside to a busy scene. Men were breaking down tents and packing up gear. They talked and laughed as they worked. The picture before her invigorated her. These men had purpose and it was a purpose she could get behind. For the first time in three years, she felt alive. Her body was bruised and battered but she was not broken._

 _In the center of camp, she saw Roche standing with his fists on his hips surveying and directing his soldiers. He was harsh but he never degraded them. When he saw her, he walked with quick steps to face her._

 _"Well?" He asked, arms crossed. The gentle tone of the night before was gone._

 _"I'll do it."_

 _That began her induction into the Blue Stripes. She trained relentlessly in all aspects of fighting. She spent a good amount of time with a small man named Merrik. He taught her how to fight someone who was larger and stronger than herself. The bigger the brute, the slower they tended to be. Roche taught her the short sword while Wilks instructed her how to throw a knife; something else she proved very adept. The men in the Blue Stripes never once made a go at her. They had seen where she had come from, knew what she had endured. They took her under their wing. They also found out that there were times when she was the only one able to talk to Roche when he had a severe fit of temper. She could get away saying things that any other man would never dare. He would rant and rave but she never backed down or shied away. She'd already been through hell. There wasn't anything Roche could do to her that would be worse._

 _Over time, she rose to be his most trusted, his right-hand man, or rather woman. Her tenacity and her fight earned her the respect of everyone. If anyone mistreated her, there was an entire unit of soldiers to answer to. But Ves wasn't helpless. More often than not, she herself disabused men of any notions they had concerning her. She took her pleasure when and where she desired and with who and she was always on top. No man would ever dominate her again._

 _Then she felt the bitterness of loss again, when the treacherous Henselt murdered her beloved Blue Stripes and raped her. Roche was the only man spared from that and only because he was away with Geralt. After that, save for a brief moment before the battle with the Hunt, it was just the two of them._

It still was the two of them, although the relationship had changed a great deal. Thinking back, she had never had to earn their respect. They had freely given it probably because she never dissolved into a useless mass of tears. Despite the years of captive torture, she held her head up and fought. They accepted her and took her under their collective wing. Even Roche. Ves smiled as she entered the yard, remembering this morning; the way he had nuzzled her neck, laying gentle kisses as he went before he rose from her. She had wanted to go with him, like the old days, but there was Mira to consider now.

The new recruits were already working their weapons under the watchful eye of their trainers. Kovir's elite were closer to the back. They were the ones she oversaw. Danil was waiting for her when she arrived. He was the young Captain from Dunn that Roche had chosen to lead Kovir's special forces. He was also the very earnest young man that Ves had dissuaded from pursuing her.

"Captain," Ves greeted him.

"All alone today, I hear." The Captain said as he fell in step with her.

"I suppose you know Roche is gone then."

"Yes. I saw him off. He said that since you are the one with the special forces training, that you would be in charge of the yard."

"Hmmm." They walked together without speaking as they passed a group of soldiers. Once clear, Danil spoke.

"I don't usually put much stock in rumors, but I've been hearing one about you."

"Such as?"

"You and the Commander…" he let his statement hang.

"Yes." Ves said simply. Danil looked at her with some surprise and a little regret.

"Can I assume then that he was the 'someone else'?"

"Yes." She answered softly. "It wasn't like this until recently. We've spent nearly a decade fighting together, the last three or four years it's been just the two of us." Ves paused before continuing. "My personal affairs are no one's business but I feel like I owed you some explanation." Danil stood and considered her with his hands clasped behind his back.

"I appreciate that, but it doesn't negate the fact that they will hold it against you. You've proven you can shoot but that doesn't mean anything. They have not been with you in the field. They don't know what Roche knows and until they do, you will never be anything more than a pretty face and a good shot."

"Have you known a woman who's better?"

"Maybe not better, but my sister is a damn good shot. When our father died, I joined the mercenary army and my sister did the hunting. Together we put food on the table. However, she is not a soldier. Doesn't have the disposition for it."

"Most women don't."

"My point exactly."

"I am not most women."

"That I know."

The first several days proceeded as any other except that it was Ves assessing them and correcting their technique. Most grudgingly but silently accepted her coaching, only a few were encouraged by it. Danil was right. She was nothing to these men but a pretty face.

She stood back watching a sparring session between the larger soldiers with their broad swords and axes. The largest brute was a man named Volos. Every time he stood up, he defeated his opponent but he was sloppy, depending heavily on his sheer size to overcome.

"Volos, you need to tighten it up. You're all momentum and no control," Ves said as he passed by her.

"I always get what I'm aiming for."

"That's not the point. One day you'll be beaten. With more control, even a man of your size can defend against a more agile opponent." Volos just snarled down at her before walking off. She saw Danil frown but remain where he was. Ves appreciated the gesture. If she was going to earn their respect, she had to do it herself without help from anyone, especially Danil or Roche. She knew that Roche had had an altercation with this particular soldier but he never revealed what yet he had selected him for this special forces team for a reason.

Later that afternoon, Ves stepped out of the armory and a huge shadow fell over her. The soldiers had gone to the mess hall so she should have been alone.

"It's time someone put you in your place," Volos grabbed her with a large, meaty hand. "Besides, if you're willing to plough that bastard Roche, then I reckon I'm more than man enough." Before Volos realized what happened, he was on his knees, Ves pressing the point of her new Koviri dagger into the vein that throbbed in his throat.

"Roche is twice the man you could ever hope to be and I would kill you before you _ever_ lay a hand on me," Ves hissed in his ear. He swallowed and she watched as his jugular pressed against her blade. Motion drew her attention as the rest of the newly formed special forces re-entered the yard. They all stood starring in shock at the sight before them; the giant Volos held at the mercy of the petite Ves. She sheathed her dagger and kicked him to the ground. She stood her ground, head held high, hands on hips.

"None of you think I am worthy of being here. But none of you know what exactly I am capable of. I have been to war, lived in war for years. I have hunted and killed Scoia'tael in the hundreds. I have even fought the Wild Hunt. And if you don't believe me, you can ask Geralt," Ves pointed up to the battlements where the Witcher had appeared. The men stayed where they stood listening. Really listening. After all, no one had ever fell the Ox before.

"I have killed more men than all of you combined. I have killed them in their sleep and on the battlefield. I have used weapons of war and regular household items. Being beautiful does have certain advantages. I may not be able to use a broadsword, but I know how to get around one."

"I have been with Roche for nearly nine years, ever since he and the Temerian Blue Stripes freed me from the Scoia'tael. When I was sixteen years old, they came and burned my village, killing everyone, except me. At first it was just the commander, then he began to loan me out to his officers, if that's what they call them. After a while they would trot me out, tie me down while each elf in his command took his turn. And I wasn't the only one, but I was the only one to survive. For three years, I survived. And if I survived that, then I can survive each and every one of you and anything you may _try_ to do to me." Ves turned on her heel and left them all standing there, thinking that maybe they had underestimated her.

The next morning, Ves returned and continued as if nothing had happened. Only something was different. The old men in charge of training the new recruits gave her a respectful nod as she passed and her own men greeted her. _Lieutenant,_ they said as she walked by them. Danil fell in step with her as usual but kept his thoughts to himself. Ves worked them harder than usual, fully engaging them and demonstrating her superior abilities when necessary. She was determined to make strides before Roche returned.

Ves walked into the court from the yard entrance. Roche had been gone for several weeks and she was to deliver the report to the King about the unit's readiness. The sun filled the magnificent space with bright light made brighter by the white marble floor. She rounded the corner and the voices became more distinct. The King had a visitor. Not uncommon. But when she saw who was standing at the bottom of his throne, she stopped dead in her tracks. The visitor looked in her direction and Ves felt something that she hadn't felt in a very long time. Panic. Horror. Fear. _No. It's not possible!_ She screamed in her head. Her breathing came in short pants threatening to make her lose consciousness. The elven face that looked at her had haunted her nightmares for years. Had hovered over hers as he rutted on her. Had laughed as he passed her around to his men.

She had to get away. Ves turned on her heel and ran. Ran as fast as she could back around the corner and down the hall only to run straight into someone, nearly knocking them over. Hands grabbed her arms and gave her a little shake, but she could still not form a coherent thought. She fought at first until his voice reached her. Roche. He had returned.

"Ves, Ves!" Roche said sternly. Her wide blue eyes looked up at him. The only other time she had looked as lost was when she realized she had been freed from her Scoia'tael captor. "Oh, Ves," Roche said and pulled her to him. She slowly stopped trembling as he held her tight but was still too shocked to speak. Fury rose inside him. He led her to a wood bench near the corner against the wall and set her down. Taking her hands in his he looked her squarely in the eye.

"You stay here. I'm going to take care of it." Ves managed to nod. Roche straightened up and strode angrily into the King's hall and came to an abrupt stop.

"You!" he yelled and pulled his sword free and held it out to the elven visitor. Tancred and Charles both called out for him to stand down. He didn't comply until a firm hand covered his, pushing his sword to the ground and he heard Geralt's voice, gentle and soothing.

"Easy, Roche. Put the sword away." Roche slid his sword home but the King was furious. Roche ignored him, still focusing his attention on the elf.

"How are you here? _I killed you_!" No one spoke. The elf sighed and nodded knowingly before speaking in a calm and tired voice.

"I always thought that was how it ended. But now I know. You killed my _brother_."

"Brother?" Roche echoed.

"Yes. He and I took different views to life. And then I never heard from him again…" The elf looked sad and Roche pounced.

"You grieve him? He was a bastard! The things he did to women and children!"

"You mistake me, Mr. Roche. I do not mourn his death; I mourn his life because I know full well what he was capable off. Of the things he bragged about."

"Then you know he took captives. Raped and tortured women."

"The woman that ran off then…" The elf tilted his head to look around Roche.

"Don't you dare!" Roche fumed. He returned his gaze to the angry man before him.

"You love this woman." It was a statement, not a question.

"Of course, I do! And you would do well to shove off. Quickly."

"Commander Roche!" Tancred bellowed.

"Please, Your Majesty," the elf's voice had a pleading quality to it. "Do not be angry with him. If you had seen the horrors that my brother inflicted on others, you would be angry as well. Mr. Roche, ease your mind. I will finish my business and leave. You will not see me again. Nor will she." Roche gave him one last hard look then spun around and left.

Ves stood as Roche approached her. She had heard the exchange. He loved her. He never said the words plainly nor had he ever acknowledged such feelings before. When he came close enough, she threw her arms around his neck. Resting his hands on her back he relaxed.

"I love you, Ves." It came out so easily and felt so natural. He had felt it for a while now but just couldn't bring himself to say it. He wasn't one to run over with emotion. Okay, that wasn't true. He was a man ruled by emotion. But the emotion people saw was usually related to his fits of temper. Which were frequent. He leaned back and looked at her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Now. His brother, huh? I feel a little foolish. I should have known someone couldn't come back from the dead."

"Seeing his face made me remember things I'd rather forget."

"Somethings are not forgotten." Ves said and Roche pulled her back to him. She felt his shoulders sag.

"The King is very mad at me."

"Roche…Vernon…" Ves said and he stared straight into her blue eyes. She only called him Vernon when they were at home. Even though many suspected they were lovers, she still called him Roche or Commander when working. "I don't know if now is a good time but…"

"But what?"

"I'm pregnant."

"Pregnant? But…"

"I know. I didn't think I could. What do we do now?" Ves asked. Roche stood tall and answered her without hesitation.

"We get married."

"Married? I don't think…"

"No child of mine is going to be born a bastard." He interrupted. "Besides," he softened his tone as he saw her discomfort with the idea, "You have already been with me for nearly a decade. What's a few more?" As Ves looked up at him she saw he how earnest he was and, strangely enough, how hopeful he looked. She also felt a swelling of her own hope, a hope she thought had been obliterated the night the Scoia'tael took her.

"Okay," Ves nodded, "okay, Vernon. I'll marry you." And she meant it. For some reason the thought of being tied to him in that way made her feel just a little stronger.

Roche and Ves sat across from the Witchers in the Dragon's Nest. Roche was trying to soothe his bruised ego after being reamed by His Royal Majesty, King Tancred. And it was indeed Tancred, not the mild mannered alter-ego Edward, that greeted him as he entered that familiar room…

 _Roche had his arms draped around Ves, his chin resting on her head when a gentle sound of a young man clearing his throat came from behind._

 _"The King would see you, Commander." The young Chamberlain returned to the main hall. Roche had inhaled deeply and squared his shoulders. He'd been disciplined before. Just not by the King. This was bad. He walked resolutely toward that door and knocked. The King beckoned him to enter. Tancred was still in his full court regalia._

 _"Have a seat, Commander." Oh crap, Roche thought. He's using titles. I'm in trouble now._

 _"I think I'd rather stand, Sire." He replied. Tancred shrugged._

 _"Suit yourself." He paced a bit before turning his wrath on Roche. Words like 'unacceptable' and 'boorish' and 'behavior unbecoming an officer of the court' were mixed in with the rest that Roche didn't manage to hear over the roar of his own embarrassment. Tancred sighed and turned a more compassionate face toward his Commander._

 _"Roche, I didn't bring you here to punish you however richly you may deserve it." Roche looked up in shock. "Calon, the visitor you threatened, was here to establish a new trade with Kovir. He also told me about his twin brother, Duron, the one you apparently killed. He managed to convince me to be lenient with you. After all, he had also suffered at the hands of his brother." Tancred sat and motioned for Roche to do the same. This time he did. "Duron raped Calon's wife and instead of sharing a bed with a man who had the same face of her tormentor, she killed herself. When I explained that Ves had been held captive for some time, he praised her for being able to survive. He also told me other stories that I cannot…I cannot repeat. He was relieved that his brother was dead._

 _I expect better of you in the future, Roche. I cannot have leaders that give in to their temper. You may go." Roche stood but did not turn to leave. "Is there something else?"_

 _"Yes, actually…"_

He pushed his third beer toward Ves in offering as he finished his accounting leaving out his final request. She looked at it with wide eyes and shoved it back. Eskel chuckled.

"Just what in the hell is so damned funny?" Roche asked. Eskel smiled and leaned forward on the table looking at Ves.

"You're pregnant." Ves looked horrified that someone could just look at her and tell.

"Brinna told you?" Ves had gone to see Brinna when she was feeling run down and tired.

"No. However, I have seen Brin turn that exact shade of green before."

"What now, Roche?" Geralt asked.

"We're getting married tomorrow. In the King's study. I don't like brandishing my private affairs in public."

"Everyone already knows, Roche. And if they don't, they will soon." Geralt gestured toward Ves indicating the obvious to come.

"I don't want the men to think that I let my passions rule my thinking or give special favors. I try to treat every man fairly and honestly."

"No one thinks otherwise." Geralt replied. "Besides, you and Ves have a long history. I'm surprised it's taken the two of you this long." Roche looked at the woman beside him. She leaned on the table very casually but he knew her. She was nervous, as was he. He was the last person who should be having a child. What kind of father would he be? But then he realized he already had a child. Mira. She was not his flesh and blood but she had taken to him rather quickly despite his hard demeanor and he enjoyed being around her. He didn't like change, but change had crept up on him. And it turned out it wasn't bad. Maybe he should thank Geralt for not conspiring with him to kill Radovid. But maybe not.


	4. New Life, Old Conspiracies

As winter approached, Roche and Ves continued as they had been. They continued refilling the ranks and fine tuning the special forces and Ves was his second in the yard without question. Roche had commented on it but Ves had deflected. She had fought and won on her own terms. The last thing she needed was Roche to step in and seek retribution on her behalf.

Ves still wore her usual uniform until the roundness of her belly became more noticeable and stopped tucking in her shirttail in to hide it. They both realized, however, they were not hiding much. There was much speculation, as always, but few knew the truth. Roche treated her as he always had; as a favored yet trusted soldier. In the privacy of home, he touched her as much as possible. He almost craved the feel of her round belly beneath his hand and was frequently rewarded with a kick. He was amazed by this new life and couldn't wait for it to be born.

The soldiers under Ves' command had also learned a new respect for her. Especially since she did not run to Roche to punish them further. She had dealt with Volos and taught him a very valuable lesson. A lesson he would not forget anytime soon. They also became quietly solicitous of her when her condition had become abundantly clear. There was always a barrel, crate or bale of hay nearby for Ves to take a rest.

"No! That's all wrong!" Roche was saying as a slender soldier came running up to him, nearly slipping and falling in the spring mud.

"Commander!"

"What!? You don't belong over here. Get back to it man!" Roche dismissed him with a wave of his arm.

"Commander…" the soldier persisted.

"Didn't I tell you…"

"It's the Lieutenant, Sir." Roche sobered instantly and ran back to the archery targets. He rounded the corner and slid to a stop in front of Ves as she leaned back against the wall panting heavily. He ran his hand over her belly and shook his head.

"No, no, no…it's too soon…too soon…" he muttered. He scooped her up and started walking out when Geralt came running up.

"Geralt. Get Brinna." Roche swallowed hard. "Please." Roche carried Ves home and Mrs. Sobek helped settle her while they waited for Brinna. When Roche opened the door, Brinna was dismayed at the blood down the front of his clothes.

"Oh, dear," she said and went immediately up the stairs. Roche watched after her not sure what he was supposed to do now. Eskel dropped his hand on Roche's shoulder and steered him toward the table. Pushing him down to the bench, he retrieved two glasses from a shelf and banged a bottle of liquor down on the smooth wood. He poured the dark liquid into the glasses then sat beside Roche, leaning back against the table.

"Bottoms up." The men downed their drinks in a single gulp.

"What the _hell_ is this?" Roche said, coughing.

"The strongest stuff the bartender would sell me." Eskel laughed. He poured a second. As they sat nursing their drinks, a painful scream emanated from behind the closed door. Roche shot to his feet but Eskel grabbed his belt and pulled him back down.

"Drink," he said. Roche belted it back then sat quietly, his fingers laced together. A little while later, the door to the bedroom opened and Brinna stepped out. She pressed a hand to her back, supporting her ever-growing second child. Leaning on the rail she called down to Eskel. He left Roche at the table and came up to meet her.

"What is it?" He asked keeping his voice low.

"I need you to fetch Triss."

"What's wrong Brin?"

"Ves…she's bleeding and I can't stop it. If it's not stopped soon, we'll lose her."

"The baby?"

"Go. Now." Eskel slid down the banister and headed straight out the door. Roche continued to sit quietly. He knew something was wrong. A man didn't get to his position without learning to pick up on things. He just couldn't be sure if it was Ves or the child…or both. He was startled out of his dark thoughts when a golden portal opened in front of him and out stepped Keira instead of Triss and went directly up the stairs without speaking to him. He paced the length of the room until Eskel rejoined him. Before long Keira came back down and nodded to them before teleporting away. Brinna reappeared at the top of the stairs, her hands clasped.

"Vernon," she called gently. He stood and just looked up at her. Other than Ves, Brinna was the only person who called him by his given name. Eskel gave him a push. He met her at the top of the stairs and she gave him a tired smile. "Come." She opened the door and led him into his room. The light was low and Ves lay slightly propped up, her eyes closed, her face pale. Brinna reached down and picked up a tiny bundle from beside her. Turning she placed the swaddled infant in his hands.

"Vernon Roche, I'd like you to meet your son." Roche opened his mouth but nothing came out. He seemed to have lost the use of his tongue. He sank to the bed as he gazed down at the tiny human he held in his hands. His _son_. He was so small and perfectly formed with tiny fists resting by his cheeks. He felt Ves' hand rest on his arm. She looked up with tired eyes and gave him a wan smile. Brinna cleared her throat.

"I've already discussed this with Ves, but I'll tell you as well. Ves cannot become pregnant again. It could kill her." Roche looked up sharply. How were they supposed to manage that unless…? "No need to panic, Vernon. If I can make a witcher a father, I can make sure you can't become one. It's already been done, at any rate. Ves is no longer able to conceive. Your son is a little early but he is strong. He'll grow into quite a man one day. I'll leave you, now." Brinna exited and softly closed the door. Roche felt suddenly exhausted and stretched out beside his wife and child, marveling at the turn his life had taken.

The days began to turn warm after the birth of his son and the warmth seemed to be affecting the men's ability to think straight. If one more soldier came and asked after Ves he was going to explode. Almost every single day since Ves' absence, a soldier approached him and asked if she would be returning, if she was well, if she was cared for. He knew what they were doing. They were fishing for answers. They wanted to know exactly what was going on between him and their Lieutenant and he was about to give them an earful. He was tired of the rumors, gossip and speculation. Whoever said women were the gossips had apparently never been around a group of soldiers with nothing else to do. The yard had emptied into the mess hall and so Roche followed them. The long tables were full with men laughing over their meal and didn't notice a very irritated Roche until he stomped up onto the table and walked heavily down the worn wood.

"Hey!" He hollered over the din. Everyone quieted down and attended him, afraid of what he might do if they didn't. "Ves _will_ be returning to the yard. Eventually. She gave birth to a son three weeks ago. And before anyone else asks, she is fine and well provided for by her husband and the father of her child, both of which I happen to be!" Somewhere a helmet fell to the stone floor, the clattering echoing through the hall. The stunned silence was palpable and no one moved. They were all too shocked at such an open admission.

"Now, if there are no more questions, you all can stop bloody bothering me and get back to work!" Roche stepped down from the table and was gone, leaving a stunned crowd in his wake. They had gotten what they were looking for whether or not they wanted to actually hear it, because he couldn't help but notice Captain Danil Stanis sigh and hang his head.

* * *

Ves returned in good time after Mrs. Sobek found a girl to help care for Mira and newborn Victor. Roche had met her in the center of the yard and kissed her in full view of those around. He whispered _they know_ as she looked up in surprise. However, there wasn't much time for celebration because Roche was working them hard in the hot months of summer. There was something coming. He just wasn't sure what it was. When pressed, he would just shake his head and say "I can feel it." He began to spend long hours poring over documents at his desk by the low light of a lamp and even longer hours in his office at the castle. As the summer progressed, Ves was left in the yard as Roche puzzled through whatever it was that was plaguing his mind.

Roche's office at the castle was a long, narrow and windowless room and it suited him just fine. At the back sat a heavy desk and behind that a screen and a bed, for those long nights. The long side walls were lined with old tapestries and on his desk sat a bowl of dressmaker's pins. All along the tapestries, Roche had pinned documents in groups according to relevance. He was currently staring at one group in particular, arms crossed, as he stroked his chin with a thumb and forefinger. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the door open and Ves slip up to his side.

"What are you thinking?" Roche gave a start at her voice.

"Damn it! I need to put a bell on people. Everyone is sneaking up on me today."

"Are they really sneaking, or are you just completely absorbed by some problem?" Roche tore his eyes from the woman who shared his life and back to the troublesome pieces of paper.

"I've been getting these obscure messages out of Temeria for months but they don't make any sense. This one for instance: _The Crown is not settled._ Which crown? It could be Temeria or Redania. Hell, it could even refer to Nilfgaard at this point. _Look to the south._ Nothing is happening to the south. I've kept in touch with Jareth and Keira and they have nothing. I have concentrated on Vizima because Anais is the most vulnerable but still nothing. No one has reported anything that could be even slightly suspicious. Fucking hell, Ves, I am at a loss." He ran his hands over his head, tossing his chaperon on the desk. "Every message is short and hand delivered by some street urchin. I have my suspicions about who is writing them but I can't find anything to confirm. There is something missing, I sure of it. I just wish I could see what whoever is trying to say." He let out a loud sigh then turned back to her. "Is everything alright? You don't usually come up here."

"You've been troubled lately, Vernon. I asked Anna to stay with Mira and Victor while I came to check on you." Roche breathed deeply and stared down at her intently. "What?" Roche pulled her tightly to him. "Oh," she said.

Despite his sudden intense arousal, he had only meant to kiss her and send her on her way but it turned into a fire fueled passion. Their clothes began to fall to the stone floor in a trail leading behind the screen. They fell into bed and had the best sex they'd had in a while. At least until they were interrupted by one of Roche's agent's mid coitus.

"Commander Ro…oh my…"

"I'm a little busy!" Roche said, covering Ves protectively. The agent continued to stand there, eyes wide staring at the very shapely leg wrapped around his boss. "In other words, GET OUT!" The agent scrambled backwards slamming the door behind him. Roche could feel Ves shaking beneath him, her hands over her face.

"Ves?" He pulled her hands away and she burst out laughing. "Oh, well, I'm glad you think this is so very funny."

"Lighten up, Vernon," she said, still laughing, as she brushed the black locks from his cheek and pulled him down for a kiss.

The round top door swung open and Ves exited followed by Roche. He gave her a gentle kiss and said something quiet to her then she proceeded down the hall. Then he turned on the agent as he sat waiting outside his door. His face went from relaxed to angry in the mere turn of his head. Roche tried not to be too angry at Bernard. He was a good man and he and Ves had never made use of the bed in his office before. However, Bernard expected him to be angry and Roche hated to disappoint.

"Follow." He said curtly to the agent. The agent followed quietly and closed the door. Bernard was still quite uncomfortable having seen his superior in such an intimate moment such a short time ago. He looked up and watched as Roche walked to his desk, his shirt unlaced and billowing around him. Roche turned and leaned on the edge, crossing his bare feet at the ankle and his arms over his hairy chest.

"I-I am so sorry, Commander, I had no idea…"

"Ever heard of knocking?"

"No, sir. I mean yes sir, but you've never, ah…" Roche held up a hand to stop this line of discussion.

"What do you have for me?"

"We received another message from southern Temeria, Sir."

"Who from?"

"Tills said it was delivered by a man and not a boy this time. He wouldn't give his name but he mentioned you specifically. Although, he said that we were to tell you it was from a ploughin' cobbler." Roche looked up sharply and snatched the message from the agent's hand and read it eagerly. Thaler. Ves said he had returned south after the war. Something about court not being safe yet but she had paid little attention to it and he had forgotten. Until now.

 _I hope I've gotten your ploughin' attention long enough for you to see what's going on. There are fucking factions down here that are fucking pissed that a La Valette is sitting on the Temerian throne. There are others that are just as fucking pissed that a bastard is sitting there. The fact that a witcher is with her has held them at bay but not for long. There needs to be a unified effort to stop future regicide and yet more war and you are just the man for it._ _Now pull your head out of your arse and do something!_

Roche silently cursed him after he read the missive thinking he'd wish Thaler would have just come out and said this months ago. Would have saved him a lot of sleepless nights. But if he had embedded himself with certain elements, this may not have been possible.

"Sir, do you know this man? Is his information reliable?"

"Yes. Quite well in fact. Name's Thaler. He was head of Temerian intelligence under King Foltest and if he says there is a problem, you can bet your bloody arse there is a problem."

"Tills gave me a full report upon his return. The man, this Thaler, told him that he had been watched which was why he sent the boys and that Tills himself had better return to Kovir after having been seen speaking with him." Roche walked to stand before Thaler's other messages, pulling a pin from the bowl. He took one last look at the recent letter before attaching it to the tapestry with the others.

* * *

Roche paced back and forth as Triss adjusted her megascope in the hall before the King's throne. Geralt carefully assisted her as best he could so she would not tire herself out. Triss had miraculously given birth to twins a month prior. She and Geralt were parents, with assistance from a little witch, of course.

"Are you going to tell us what this is all about, Roche?"

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but I'll have to ask you to wait a little longer." Triss stood before the megascope and said an incantation. The air before them shimmered and two groups of people came into view. Adda, Yen, and Jareth on the right and Natalis, young Anais, Lambert and Keira on the left. Triss stepped back and gestured for Roche to take center stage. He walked to the front and cleared his throat before beginning.

"Anais is in danger." He said, cutting directly to the point. He watched as Lambert stood up straighter and moved closer to the young queen.

"Well, you certainly know how to get things started, don't you?" Natalis quipped.

"I've heard from Thaler. He has found out some plots to wrest the throne from her. The fact that she is a La Valette isn't sitting well with some and then there is the fact that Foltest never made a public declaration of acknowledgement. Apparently, that is enough for these two groups to band together. I've had eyes and ears all over Temeria and Redania since I started getting these cryptic messages but I finally got a clear-cut message from Thaler and we must do something or there is going to be another regicide. And more war.

"And what does this have to do with Redania?" Yen asked. Roche gave her a hard look.

"Adda is her sister. And Redania still has most of it military intact. Natalis has had to rebuild from scratch. We need to come together and put a stop to this."

"Why?" The question came from behind him. Roche paused. "Why 'we' and why you?" He knew Tancred wasn't being obstinate but merely voicing the questions that everyone must be thinking. As well as himself.

"We because Tancred or Adda could be next. Me because…because I owe it to Foltest. To Temeria. I am here today because of Foltest and not some drunk in the street and Temeria is my homeland. I may have made a new life and new home in Kovir, but a free Temeria is in everyone's' best interest." There was a silent pause before Tancred answered softly.

"Well said, Commander."

"If that's the case, then where to next? Thaler obviously meant for you take this on." Natalis shifted on his feet, waiting.

"I need men. Good fighting men. Obviously, agents from each court would be necessary but we need people who don't have anything to gain politically. And it need to be kept quiet. I want to take this fight to them and not sit back and let them take over. I want to cut it off at the root.

* * *

Roche walked down the plank to the boards of the dock. Looking up and down he saw the bustling workers loading and unloading the merchant ships, hawkers at their stands just up from where he now stood beckoning to passersby. Even the whores were out in force. Looking up he saw the tower on Temple Isle as it loomed over the city and this time it didn't look quite so bleak.

"Glad to see you made the crossing in one piece." A familiar voice said. Roche smiled as he reached out to grasp Jareth's hand in a grip of friendship.

"I'm surprised to see you down here. I thought for sure Yennifer would be here."

"Fortunately, the Queen took your request for neutrality to heart and asked if I would go instead."

"At any rate, I'm glad to see you."

"Same here." The two men turned and walked away from the docks as the Kovir soldiers disembarked. "We have horses and wagons ready outside the city walls. We'll take the road out through Tretogor and cross the Pontar just past La Valette castle. Natalis has already secured the way. Naturally the La Valette's have a distinct interest in keeping Anais on the throne. We'll be meeting with Lambert at the river and head to the Temerian training camp south of Vizima. Figured it was more low profile than setting up a military camp somewhere else. That will give us a place to strike from."

"That's a good plan but the Pontar is wide and deep at La Valette Castle."

"That's where a sorcerer comes in handy," Jareth said tapping his staff on the ground and grinning. "So where is Kovir's neutral emissary?"

"Right here." Geralt said as he came up behind them.

"I guess we can get going then." As they left the main gate, Geralt couldn't help but stop and look around. The last time he'd been here, the village had been decimated, bodies strewn across the landscape. Two years later the homes had been rebuilt and humans and nonhumans were going about their lives.

The group moved slowly through Tretogor. Roche had brought only his elite solders, plus Ves, but Redania had a full contingent of fully armed and equipped men. The tension between the two groups of men was palpable. The Koviri soldiers were on their guard in a strange land, the Redanians were wary of armed strangers in their home territory. They crossed the Pontar via Jareth's portal. They were greeted on the other side by a solemn looking Lambert wearing a Temerian badge around his neck. Geralt reached up and tugged on it.

"What's this?"

"It will get us to where we're going then it comes off. Not everyone knows who I am." Lambert said, his voice hostile and angry. Geralt let the matter drop. Once on Temerian soil, Jareth forced a faster pace. The sooner they arrived at the camp meant less time they were exposed to unfriendly eyes.

Tents had been set up for the visiting armies as well as a central command tent for Roche. It had been agreed between the rulers that Roche should head this venture and lead all the fighters involved, regardless of where they come from. They were embarking on guerrilla warfare, and Roche was well versed in it. With Ves at his side, he felt confident despite the suspicious glances he received from the Redanians and Temerians.

For a couple of days, the men trained while Roche got the lay of the land. It was also important that the three groups of soldiers learn to be around one another. Roche had rolled out his map and re-read the obscure letters from Thaler. He placed markers and paced, thinking, then placing more markers. In combination with the detailed map Natalis had provided, he was better able to interpret what Thaler had been hinting at. The messages had not all been details of plots, but some were references to locations. It would be where they would strike.

Looking up, Roche noticed that darkness had fallen and the camp had gone quiet. He lowered the lamp light and rubbed his tired eyes then moved to his cot for some sleep.

Across camp Ves lay in her cot in the Koviri barracks tent. She lay on her side then turned to the other before laying on her back completely unable to sleep. When the Blue Stripes ran the Temerian country side, she never had this problem. She could sleep anywhere, anytime. Giving one last huff Ves got up and walked quietly out of the tent into the dark camp. Across the center and through the maze of wood tables, a dim light peeked out through the slightly open flap of the command tent. Ves slipped through the canvas opening. The lamp had been left to burn out over the map and markers. One side of the tent was in shadow and Roche lay on his back, left arm thrown over his eyes. He looked sound asleep.

"Roche?" She called softly. He didn't respond verbally but held his right hand out to her. That was all the invitation she needed. Ves climbed onto the cot beside him as he shifted to cradled her body with his own. Roche wrapped an arm around her and nuzzled her short blonde hair. She smelled of sweat and leather, both familiar and comforting scents to a career soldier.

"I couldn't sleep without you," she whispered.

"Me neither," he replied then both promptly fell asleep.

* * *

"Commander…" a young Temerian soldier entered the command tent and stopped mid-sentence. Roche lay still curled around Ves, his arm over her as they slept but stirred at the voice and sat up.

"What is it?" He said groggily getting to his feet and holding out a hand to pull Ves to hers. The soldier still stood there slack jawed staring at the two of them. _Not again._ Roche thought.

"For the love of…" He grabbed the tongue-tied man by the front of his uniform and dragged him outside. The rest of the camp was eating breakfast and preparing their gear. Roche let go of the soldier and marched straight up and onto the table, knocking bowls askew. Ves followed and watched him wondering what he was up to.

"Listen up!" He yelled over the crowd of men as he gestured for Ves. "This is Ves. She is my Lieutenant. If she gives you an order it is as good as mine." Roche pulled her up to stand on the table with him. His expression softened as he stood slightly behind her resting his hand on her waist. "The boys from Kovir already know this, but she is also my wife." He let his gaze linger on her for just a moment then he released her and resumed his hard tone. "But she has been my lieutenant longer and the rest is none of your gods damned business and has nothing to do with the work we are here to do. Now, if we are done with this little bit of juicy gossip, I need the Captains and advisors in my tent." Roche jumped down and stormed to his tent. Ves went to the mess tent and found herself some breakfast. After eating she headed toward the command tent and flipped open the flap. The unit Captains had yet to arrive. The only people present were the Witchers and Jareth.

"What in the hell was that, Vernon?" Ves said, gesturing behind her. Roche was leaning on the map table make small adjustments.

"They needed to hear it from me and not from some wet behind the ears soldier gossiping like a fishwife." Roche stated this as plain fact, without yelling or getting angry. Ves stood staring hard at him until a calm voice intruded.

"He's right, Ves. They will trust him more if they know the truth. About everything." Geralt said. Ves relented.

"Damn it. I know."

"I knew you couldn't stay mad at me." Roche quipped.

"Damn that, too."

"And that is why I love you," Roche said, looking up from his maps. Ves couldn't help but feel warmth spread inside her. He very rarely expressed affection, much less in front of others. "I am not ashamed of us, Ves."

"And that is why I love you." Ves suddenly wished they were alone and was tempted to tell the others to get lost but the tent opened again and the three regiment Captains entered. Roche straightened up and crossed his arms. His face told her he had gone into full Commander mode and she followed his lead. Danil moved to Ves' left as the Redanian and Temerian Captains stood on the empty side of the table. Ves couldn't help but notice the Temerian Captain looked a little young to be a Captain.

"Scouts," Roche began. "I need them. I have three, including Ves."

"I've got six with me," the Redanian Captain Banich said. "All good men, good with the bow and sword." Roche nodded and looked to the young Temerian.

"And you? What's your name?"

"Kozlov, Sir. I have a dozen but only eight are fit for the field right now. Still training the others." Roche was silent for a moment.

"That will have to do. We are going on a scouting trip and I want full coverage. I want to see everything that is to be seen and I don't want us to be seen. Got that? We are going to put an end to this. You're dismissed." The Captains left and Roche sighed.

"The Temerian is young. What about his men?"

"Natalis has been recruiting as best as he can. We have a lot of young men because the grown ones were killed in war or are too old to fight. Most of the people are tired of war. Tired of fighting. The experience we have is spread thin." Lambert said from his perch on a worn trunk. "But, they are eager."

"I don't need eager. I need skill. Eager gets men killed."

"They'll be ready enough, Roche. I'll handpick the scouts. There are four seasoned men that can do it."

"Gather them up then. You leave tonight. Geralt, I want you and Lambert to get into that camp for a close up if you can. Jareth and I will stay behind to start planning our strike." Loud jeers intruded from outside on any further discussion. They left the tent to find two brutes going head to head as the others stood around cheering. It was clearly an angry brawl and not fights to entertain. Roche shoved the onlookers aside and separated the two men: a large Redanian and his own Volos. They continued to hurl insults at one another over his head.

"Enough!" Roche bellowed above the din. He gave every man a hard steely-eyed glare regardless of the color of his uniform. "As of this moment we are one unit. I don't give a fuck where you hail from, you answer to me. You will work together or I will personally beat the shit out of each and every one of you."

"He disrespected the Lieutenant!" Volos protested.

"That doesn't matter right now. What matters is that we hold our kingdoms together or we'll have another war on our hands. I don't know about the rest of you but I am damned tired of war."

* * *

The motley mix of soldiers and two Witchers left camp that evening making their way south. Within a few hours, they found their target, exactly where Roche said it would be. They broke up and circled the encampment, Stanis from the south, Ves on the north and the Witchers from the east and west. They sat and watched from their protective vantage points, counted soldiers and tried to spot a familiar face. When the camp settled for the night and fires died down, Lambert and Geralt crept from their hiding places and down among the tents. Silently they avoided the few guards on watch and peeked into tents. There wasn't much to go on but they were certainly up to no good. Maps of the palace at Vizima lay around the command tent.

After an hour of snooping about, the pair made their way out of the camp and met up at the rendezvous point. The rest were waiting and they had a surprise. Captain Stanis held one of the guerrilla soldiers bound and gagged. The man gave them an evil look through the blood that ran down his forehead.

"I say we kill him now," Lambert growled.

"No," Ves replied. "He's going back with us. Roche will want to have a word with him. We've already taken his armor and weapons. We'll make it look like he deserted." The man was trussed up and blindfolded then led on. When Roche woke the following morning, his mood was gleeful as he gazed upon the prize that was delivered to him. They found a chair and tied him to it before removing his gag and blindfold.

"So," Roche began as he stood over the prisoner, arms crossed, "What exactly are you guys up to?"

"Fuck off."

"No. Not what I was looking for." Roche hit him. "Who is in charge?" The man glared at him. Roche hit him again then pulled out a slim blade. "I would like some answers or I'm going to start cutting things off. And I think I'll start here…" he placed the point on each finger of the man's hand, "…then I'll move to, presumably, bigger and better things if I don't get what I want." Roche dug the point into the man's groin. "Now, what are you planning to do?" The man's eyes were hard despite the threat and Roche lay the sharp edge against a hairy knuckle and pressed down. The sickening crunch of bone and tendon made almost everyone wince, except Roche, and blood spurted down the arm of the chair. The prisoner, however managed to swallow his scream.

"Again. What are you planning to do?" Roche repeated calmly. The man's breathing was heavy as Roche tapped his blade against the soldier's codpiece.

"We are going to kill her," he spat out. "Do what you will to me, but that little bastard will be made to bow before we lop off her head. Maybe have a little fun beforehand." Suddenly Lambert jumped forward and backhanded him, splitting his lip, then proceeded to beat the bound man senseless. Geralt and Roche struggled to pull him off. Lambert shook them both off and left the tent. Geralt followed as Roche continued his interrogation. Geralt found Lambert staring off in the distance, over the river as the sun rose. He gave no indication that he knew someone was there but he knew. He was a witcher.

"I guess I was out of line back there."

"A little." Geralt said quietly. Lambert sighed.

"All those years ago, I thought you were an idiot. You know, about Ciri. The way you looked after her and ran to her side whenever she was in trouble. But now I know. I know how you felt. It's that way with Ana. Anais. I would do anything for her. Go to any lengths to protect her. Just hearing that bastard…imagining what they want to do to her…" Lambert stopped and continued to look out over the calm water. He was done talking. Geralt left him with his thoughts and returned to the command tent.

"What else did you find out there?" Roche asked as he re-gagged their prisoner.

"There's no more than a hundred soldiers," Ves answered. "But they are well armed."

"Indeed," Geralt confirmed. "They also have detailed maps of the palace at Vizima. I believe they are planning a clandestine assault."

"That's certainly a problem. There could be someone inside then."

"There's more, Roche. I got a look in most of the tents and we have a bigger problem."

"And what could be bigger than regicide?"

"Dethmold."


	5. Saving Temeria

_Dethmold._ There wasn't a day that had gone by that Roche didn't regret not being able to kill the filthy bastard. But now he had been handed an opportunity to rectify that. He had been angry that Geralt had not gone with him that day in Loc Muinne, but he had still managed to free Anais and get her away. He was able to meet up with John Natalis who had told him to take the child to his wife who had been residing in the Lyrian countryside away from war torn Temeria. Gwendolyn Natalis had accepted the royal orphan with open arms and cared for and nurtured her. She kept the girl safe until Radovid's death and Natalis had brought her to Vizima after Adda's pledge to relinquish Redania's claim to Temeria.

Roche stood watching the men practice. He was going to be ready. His ideal of a free Temeria would be realized except he would be wearing the colors of another king. However, he had no cause for complaint, although the life he led now was so different from what he had thought he would be leading. Hearth and home had no interest for him years ago, yet the older he got the more it appealed.

Jareth went to Vizima to warn Natalis of a potential breach in the castle while Roche integrated the armies blending the experienced men with the fresh to strengthen his front. Dethmold would not be getting away this time.

Within a few days, Roche was ready to make his move and he gathered his forces. Ves would lead the archers from behind while he, Geralt, Lambert and Jareth would go in with the fighters. After they gathered, Roche realized that someone was missing.

"Where is Lambert?"

"I took him back to Vizima." Jareth replied.

"What?! Damn it, I needed him here!"

"Roche, ever since we brought back that soldier, he hasn't had his head on straight. He's been worried about Anais. He can do the most good there. If they managed to get into the palace, they won't get passed him." Geralt said. He understood Lambert's unease. He had felt the same worry about Ciri but at least Ciri could defend herself. Anais was helpless.

"Fine." Roche groused, but he understood. Protecting Anais was a priority. She was the key to Temeria's future. They marched south beneath the stars reaching the camp before the sun rose. The archers were seated in their positions to rain down and a few men had been scattered around the perimeter to catch any would-be deserters. It was easy. Far too easy. Carefully they made their way into the camp, removing the guards but they found that their prey wasn't easily caught. The enemy had been ready and waiting. Dethmold appeared as the sun began to break over the horizon. He planted his staff in the ground and called up a terrible wind that buffeted the soldiers as they fought one another. Across the camp, Jareth set a counter spell, to create a shield around the advancing group. Dethmold frowned and jabbed his staff into the ground as he said another incantation. The ground began to shimmy and shake then gave away. Men screamed as they fell into a bottomless pit. Roche felt the ground give way beneath his feet and for the first time in his life, he was afraid.

 ** _Three days earlier…_**

Lambert stepped from Jareth's portal into the court hall in Vizima. Anais was sitting on her throne listening to a starchy woman instruct her on how to comport herself in a royal manner. The girl, however, had other ideas. Upon seeing her favorite witcher walking up the carpet she jumped up and ran down to meet him. Lambert couldn't help but smile. No one had ever greeted him with such unabashed joy.

"You're back!" She cried as she threw her slim arms around his neck. Lambert returned her hug as his eyes met with Keira's. She had missed him, too.

"Your Majesty!" The starchy woman cried in horror at the sight of the young queen embracing the road weary witcher. "You _never go to_ anyone. They are to come to you. And you never embrace anyone. Much less those… _beneath_ you."

"But Lambert is my friend." Anais protested.

"Royalty doesn't have _friends_." Anais wilted under the woman's glare. Lambert rested his hand on the girl's shoulder and was rewarded with a glare of his very own. Lambert raised his arm to sniff himself.

"Wow. I know I need a bath but I didn't think I was so bad off as to bring on that kind of face," he quipped. Anais giggled.

"Master Witcher, I was hired to complete the child's education. _You_ are a distraction and a nuisance."

"And you're a…"

"I think that will be all for today." Keira said, intervening before Lambert could say something truly terrible.

"As you wish, Ms. Metz." The tutor turned and left the hall. Once out of earshot Lambert let loose.

"Who the _fuck_ is that starchy old hag?"

"That starchy old hag is the finest ladies tutor available. While Anais' general education is something that we can attend to, there are some things that she needs to know that we, especially you, cannot teach her." Lambert just puffed up his chest and crossed his arms, looking doubtful. Keira patted his shoulder and said she was glad he was back. He deflated a little and told her the reason for his return.

"So, in short, I go where she goes."

"I can't argue with that. Now that you're back I'll have Natalis rearrange the guard and place some of my own alarms around. The walls are a veritable warren of tunnels. You'd better take her back to her apartments." Keira left in search of Natalis while Lambert and Anais walked side by side to the back hall and up the stairs to a lavish set of rooms. As they walked, Lambert noted how tall she was. At fourteen, her head came to just passed his shoulder and she had begun to fill out, making her look more like a young woman than a girl. But she was still so young. Too young for all that had been thrust upon her.

Once in her room, Anais began to vent about her 'studies'. Lambert sat on a corner of the enormous bed and leaned back against the heavy post to listen. When she was finished, she flung herself on the bed and lay her head in his lap.

"She thinks I am in love with you."

"Who?"

"Ms. Havelin. She doesn't understand. I know what it's like to love a brother. A younger brother anyway. I think loving an older brother feels the same. Like loving you." Lambert continued to stroke her hair as a warmth spread through his chest.

"Is that why she calls me a distraction?"

"Yes. I guess she doesn't know that you and Keira love each other that way."

"I guess not."

"That's not weird that I said that, is it?" She sat up and looked at the Witcher, her cheeks flushing.

"No. I guess I could call you my unexpected child." Anais smiled. Lambert had told her various stories of Witcher lore and about the unexpected child and the bond between them. He told her about Geralt and Ciri but skipped over Eskel and Deirdre. Their bond had literally been the stuff of nightmares. Their time, however, was interrupted when the maids entered carrying bath water.

"My apologies Your Highness, Master Witcher. It's time for the Queen's bath." Lambert rose from the bed and grabbed a chair. He placed it facing away from the screened tub and sat.

"Master Witcher…"

"Ana's life is in danger. I do not leave her side." And he didn't. For three days, he kept her schedule. Eating meals with her, sleeping on a cot in her room, even listening to the starchy Ms. Havelin drone on about proper ways to do this and that even though he would much rather have snuck away with Keira for an hour or two. Instead he made do by making faces behind the old woman's back making it some of Anais' best lessons.

One afternoon on the third day, Keira came running onto the hall as Ms. Havelin coached her in the proper way to greet dignitaries based on rank. Lambert was immediately alerted and pulled his sword with one hand while reaching for Anais with the other.

"Master Witcher!"

"Piss off! Her safety is my responsibility."

"Get her out of here, Lambert," Keira said as she got closer. "My alarms went off."

"Which ones?"

"All of them."

 ** _Southern Temeria…_**

Ves watched as the ground shimmered then fell away, the screams of several men reaching her ears. Her heart sank as she then watched Roche twist and grab the side of the gaping hole that had opened beneath him. Her first instinct was to drop what she was doing and run to help him but his words came back to her. _A soldier's job is to kill, not save._ He had even taken her weapon after that stunt in Mulbrydale. She had grown since then and her thinking had matured, thus reining in her own recklessness. She still disagreed with him but the way she had gone about it had been all wrong. She could have gotten herself and the men she took with her killed.

Taking a quick glance around, she saw Volos trying to make his way to where Roche had fallen, so Ves did her job. She shouldered her crossbow and killed every man she could between the giant soldier and the man she loved.

Roche grabbed fistfuls of dirt in an effort to find something to hold onto. Finally, he found a small root and held onto it for all his worth. He was about to die for his beloved Temeria. And he found he wasn't ready. He had never had so much to lose before: Ves, Mira, Victor. His throat tightened up as he thought about his son growing up without a father. Like he had. The root tore away and he reached up grabbing blindly as dirt fell in his face. This time he grabbed something much more substantial and it grabbed back. More hands grabbed him from the back and hauled him up and out of the hole. He was surprised to find Volos and Banich standing there.

"How…?" Roche asked breathlessly. Volos had been some distance away from him fighting off several men.

"Dunno. Just started dropping around me. Arrow in the neck, every one." _Ves._ No one else could get off that many shots that quick and still be that accurate. He must remember to thank her very thoroughly later.

"Never mind," Roche shook off the sentiment, "we have a sorcerer to kill." Banich handed him his short sword and pulled the long blade from his back. They ranged back around the hole but didn't make it far before they were knocked down with a shockwave. Jareth had broken through and shattered Dethmold's staff, the pummeling winds abated and the ground had been restored allowing several men to be pulled to safety. Roche scrambled to his feet and ran to where the fair-haired wizard was getting back to his. Coming from behind, he grabbed Dethmold's throat and held him back against himself.

"Remember me, you fucking bastard?"

"The traitor, Roche. Here to kill me?"

"You bet your arse I am." With that Roche shoved the point of his blade through the sorcerer and watched as it came out the other side covered in blood. Roche held him for just a moment longer, listening to the strangled breathing then dropped him, pulling his sword out. Roche stood over him and Dethmold began to laugh weakly.

"I still win." He said with his last breath.

"We'll see about that. Chase them all down! I want a few kept alive!" Roche barked over the clashing swords. The tide had turned and Roche wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

 ** _The Palace at Vizima_**

It was too late. Some soldiers dressed in black ran into the hall, weapons drawn. The old woman shrieked and looked around for a way out but hid behind the large throne. Lambert pulled Anais behind him. He could feel her trembling hands grip his sword belt. He pulled his silver dagger from his thigh and handed it to her.

"Remember what I taught you." He whispered. She took the weapon and nodded as tears stung her eyes. Keira conjured shields and beasts but her magic could only go so far and for so long. Lambert stepped forward to engage the closest interloper and buried his blade in his side. When he pulled back, the defeated foe disintegrated into a gust of wind. Lambert attacked again and again turning each black soldier into ash. As he was valiantly carving through them, Keira saw what he did not. The ash from each defeat swept together and formed a much larger being: A draug and it headed directly for Anais. The poor girl was too terrified to move.

"Lambert!" Keira shrieked. Lambert threw off his attacker and raced to intercept the draug. As the giant brought down his heavy club, Lambert blocked with his sword. He struck with the aard causing the draug to stagger back while he switched swords. If only his signs were stronger. Eskel could have knocked the beast off its feet. Lambert continued with fast swings in an attempt to knock the draug out as quickly as possible. The monster lurched on its feet, ash slowly leeching off it from the damage Lambert had inflicted, and stomped. The strong vibration caused a crack to form in the polished marble floor and Lambert fell, his sword sliding away. Quickly he set the quen shield as the black club raised and came down hard. The shield held. Anais stood on the steps of the dais trembling. She watched as Lambert struggled to maintain the shield and Keira was otherwise occupied and could not help him. The dark creature raised its club again and brought it down as Lambert's shield flickered and disappeared.

In a split second the young queen saw something. An opening in the back of the draug. It swirled like a torrid wind. She held the point of the silver dagger as Lambert had instructed her and threw the blade with a quick flick of her wrist. Anais watched as the weapon found its home in the center of the swirling heart. Lambert managed to pull his steel sword out and braced for the impact but nothing but wind and ash hit him. He lay back panting on the cold floor as the rush of adrenaline coursed through him. All around the mysterious soldiers dropped into piles on the floor. Keira dropped beside him, her hands fluttering over his chest and face. He grabbed one and brought it to his lips but a small whimper brought him out of his shock. Sitting up he saw Anais still standing on the steps to the dais, the fabric of her dress shaking she was trembling so violently.

He rolled over and crawled to her and she collapsed into his arms and cried. Natalis' forces came rushing in from all sides, but it was finished. Keira stood and watched as her lover cradled the young queen in his lap. She was falling apart now, but she had shown a great presence of mind at just the right time. She would make a good ruler eventually. Temeria's future never looked brighter than in just that moment.

 ** _Temerian training camp…_**

The tired contingent returned with Geralt at its head while Roche brought up the rear. Ves hadn't been able to get near him on the return to camp even though she very badly wanted to but, out here, the job came first. She watched him walk through the camp and straight by Geralt at a slow leisurely pace and something about it struck her as odd. Roche did nothing leisurely. Geralt was watching in his wake then gestured in her direction.

"Something is wrong. My medallion just started vibrating like mad. Still is." Ves looked at the tent.

"You think something is wrong with Vernon?"

"Not something. _He_ is wrong. When have you ever known him to walk that slowly."

"Well, I can find out real quick. When is Jareth getting back from Vizima?"

"Anytime now." Ves nodded and loosened the laces on her shirt all the way down. Heading for the command tent she found Roche flipping through maps and other assorted confidential materials. Geralt was right. His movements were all wrong.

"Vernon." She approached him and slid her hands up his back. He stopped and looked back at her with a quizzical eye. Ves stepped away and stood with her hands on hips, exposing her untied shirt and the fresh white skin beneath. If it was Roche, he would tell her to cover up or maybe even maul her after his brush with death. The man turned and gave her an appreciative glance then grabbed her chin and kissed her before he went back to flipping through papers. It was wrong. _All wrong_. She knew her lover's kiss and that wasn't it. This wasn't Vernon Roche. And if this wasn't Vernon Roche, where was he?

Geralt waited outside the command tent as Jareth joined him. The sorcerer began to speak but Geralt silenced him. Inside the tent was a scuffle and suddenly Roche came flying out and landed on his back right in front of the witcher. Geralt pulled his sword as his medallion went wild.

"That is not Vernon," Ves said as she too joined them. The nearby soldiers found rope and trussed up the imposter. Geralt and Ves enlightened Jareth about their suspicions.

"That explains why he wanted to go to Vizima with me so badly. Hmmm…This was a backup plan. I doubt then that was truly Dethmold that was killed then. In certain instances, with the aid of certain artifacts, a skilled sorcerer can project himself and his power through another individual. This is a similar type of spell. It takes the targeted individual and replaces them with someone else then uses a glamour to conceal their identity." Jareth raised his staff. "Let's see who exactly we are dealing with." The mage cast his magic and the glamour shimmered and faded. Behind it was a hard, lean man with a look that told them he had more than just a passing familiarity with murder." Ves struggled to keep her composure. She wanted to kill this man in front of her but she wanted to feel Roche's strong arms around her more. They had to find him.

"Well, well, well." Jareth leaned on his staff and looked at the stranger before him.

"Where is Roche? Where is he you son of a bitch?!" Ves leapt at him, striking and shaking him. Arms came around her and pulled her back. She longed to lash out, but was unable. The Witcher kept her restrained.

"That is a good question," Jareth asked languidly. "Where is Vernon Roche?" In a swift motion he raised his staff and struck the captive with a spell. They watched as life leeched from him into dark blue stone. Then, just before death, Jareth sliced his throat and dipped his finger in the blood then tracing lines and symbols on his staff he muttered to himself. "Too bad we don't have any of Roche's blood. Would make this a bit easier." Getting back to his feet, he looked at Ves as she stood within the Witcher's grasp.

"Unless…"

"Unless what?" Geralt asked.

"Would you be willing to shed a little blood for your beloved?"

"I would die for him," Ves replied.

"As I thought, but won't be necessary. Just a little blood will suffice." He pricked her finger then placed it on the blue stone. It began to pulse beneath her finger. Jareth seemed pleased. "You might want to right yourself and check your weapons."

"Where are we going?" Ves asked as she tied her shirt and picked up a crossbow.

"Not we. You." The white bottom of the staff dug deep in the dirt and a blinding light flashed out from the stone. Everyone turned away, shielding their eyes. Except for Ves. "What do you see?" She could see fields and hills. A farm. A forest. A dilapidated shack at the base of a mountain. A burned village. It was all so painfully familiar to her.

"What do you see, Ves?" he repeated, his voice distant.

"Home…" Then she vanished.


	6. No Place Like Home

Roche awoke not knowing where he was or how long he'd been unconscious. His head throbbed and everything seem to hurt. He tried to sit up but couldn't. Lifting his head, he found he was striped to the waist, bound spread eagle to a wooden table and soaking wet.

"Bollocks." Roche dropped his head back to the table with a thud that did nothing to abate the pounding in his brain. It would be a miracle if he made it out of this alive.

"Ah, I'm glad you're awake." A mealy voice said. Roche watched as Dethmold came closer to where he was bound. "And here you thought you had killed me. Tsk, tsk. If it's one thing I have learned over the years, it's how to stay alive."

"I haven't stopped breathing yet," Roche threatened. Dethmold chuckled as he turned away. The other side of the subterranean room was lavishly appointed and held another prisoner.

"Well, why don't you think on your mortality a little more and I'll get back to you. I have more…pleasant things to do." The wizard released a ball of electricity as he dropped his robes to the dirt floor. The static fingers struck Roche with such violence, they took his breath away. Every muscle in his body tightened as his body arched off the wooden surface and he gritted his teeth biting back a scream, but he lost that battle as the heat of electricity turned into the burn of his blood turning to ice. It was the most exquisitely thorough pain he had ever felt. It couldn't have lasted more than just a few minutes, but it felt like hours leaving him completely winded and weak. Turning his head Roche saw Dethmold naked and thrusting on the bed before he blacked out.

When Roche came to, the sight before him made him wish he hadn't. There was blood everywhere and Dethmold's other victim lay spread open on the floor, his guts spilling out, his face frozen in a mask of pain and fear. Dethmold himself was still naked, covered in blood and humming a little tune as if he was doing a pleasant chore. Roche felt bile rise in his throat which he choked back down. Instead he looked away, desperately trying not to think of Ves because at this rate he would never see her again. Staring up at the wood planks overhead, he took deep breaths, calming himself and accepting the end that fate had handed him. Dust fell on his face and he closed his eyes. After a while, Dethmold appeared beside him again.

"Have you thought about your pathetic life, Vernon Roche? I have. You have been a thorn in my side for years. How you managed to get the girl away from me I'll never know, but now it's my turn to have the upper hand." He produced an ornate dagger with a very fine and very sharp point. Roche felt the sting of the blade as it slid gently over his side re-igniting the intense pain of before and ripping a deep scream from him. "I plan to have a great deal of fun with you, Roche." Dethmold placed the point of the dagger against Roche's chest but before he could press down an arrow pierced the sorcerer in the shoulder. He squealed like a pig at slaughter then Roche's miracle appeared. Ves came down the stairs and rammed the butt of her crossbow into Dethmold's face knocking him to the ground, unconscious.

"Ves! Where…? Thank the gods." Ves released his hands and Roche pulled his arms in and rubbed his wrists. Sitting up he came face to face with his rescuer. She didn't say a thing, just leaned in and kissed him long and hard. When she pulled away she just nodded.

"That's right." She said.

"What's right? Can you just release me already?"

"I'll explain later," Ves said as she unscrewed the bars that held his feet. Swinging his legs over the side Roche stood and stretched. Freedom had never felt so good. On the floor, Dethmold made a mewling sound as he came around. With newfound vigor, Roche went to him and snatched the dagger from his grasp then dropped between the sorcerer's knees and leaned over him. Grabbing his face, Roche forced the demented mage to look at him.

"Now who has the upper hand," Roche taunted, brandishing the dagger. "I have wanted to do this for a very long time." Roche jammed the blade into Dethmold's groin and drug it across relishing the sorcerers screams as he was castrated. Getting to his feet, Roche leaned down one last time and sliced Dethmold's throat. Roche dropped the blade and turned to Ves. "Let's get out of here."

"Gladly." As the pair made their way out, Roche grabbed his torn uniform jacket and tipped a brazier as he followed Ves up the stone steps.

They emerged from charred cellar doors beside the rubble of a burned hut as smoke began to waft from the space below. Roche looked around to get his bearings and find some marker of where he was. Ves on the other hand simply began to make her way out of the wooded area.

"Come." She said to him. Her voice was soft and subdued, so very unlike her after a fight. She was brash and rowdy and could drink many of his men under the table. He followed her down a narrow path that was probably much wider at one time. Ahead, he saw a village center; the remains of bonfire still piled up. Every home had been torched. He found Ves standing before a small hut that had probably been two rooms at most. She stood as if she was looking at something else long gone, her hands down at her sides.

"Ves?"

"This is where it all began," she said, her voice distant. "We used to sit here and peel potatoes, my mum and me. The hunter and his son, Evan, would come by with some tanned leather that my mum would make into hunting vests for them. It was Evan that first gave me a crossbow. That seems so long ago now." Ves turned and walked to the other side of the square and stopped beneath a large charred tree. She reached out and touched the blackened bark. "Everyone expected me and Evan to marry. He even kissed me once, beneath this tree." Roche came to her side and slipped his hand into hers then lifted it to his lips. Ves faced him and gently slid her hand under the coat and pushed it off his shoulders. He untied her shirt and pulled it over her head. As they came together, her breasts pressed against his hairy chest, his hands at her waist, they kissed softly. Ves ran her hands through his loose hair and pulled him closer. Slowly they sunk into the thick grass and into one another.

Coming here had been hard for Ves, but not for the reasons one would think. The thought that her life would end not once but twice in this village was almost too much. She stood in the village square, not knowing where to turn until a man's scream pierced the silence. But she had found him in time, and as their bodies strove together in a slow, almost tormented passion, Ves felt the pain of loss ease. They continued to lay together as the sun shifted high in the sky, the wind cooling their skin. Roche sat up, resting his arm on his bent knee.

"How did you know I was here?" He asked, looking down at Ves as she remained stretched out in the grass.

"I didn't. We didn't. We returned to the camp and Geralt said his medallion was vibrating near you and that you just seemed wrong. So, I untied my shirt and followed you into the tent. You…he kissed me and that's when I knew it wasn't you."

"That's what you meant then?"

"Yes. Turned out it was some assassin made to look like you. Jareth said it was probably a backup plan and that Dethmold was still alive. He killed the imposter and used his blood and mine for some spell, then I was here."

"What about Anais? What happened at the palace?"

"He didn't say." Roche stood and retrieved his pants.

"We need to get moving. We've got a hike ahead of us." They dressed then found the road out of the village and settled into a steady pace even though every step racked his body with acute pain. About two miles down the road they came across a farm and some children playing nearby. Looking up at the strangers, the young girl ran back toward the barn where someone was chopping wood. The older boys stayed, watching the strangers.

"Who are you? Are you a soldier?" The oldest asked. The boy approached them without a hint of timidity.

"Yes, we are. Is your father around? We could use a bit of help," Roche said. Ves smiled behind him. His interaction with children had certainly improved since becoming a father himself.

"Yeah. Com'on." The boys ran ahead while Ves and Roche followed. They were met halfway by the boy's father, having been alerted to strangers by his daughter. He was tall with broad shoulders, dark hair and a broad grin. His axe was slung over his shoulder and they could see extensive burn marks down one arm. Upon seeing them his expression turned wary but unafraid.

"Lost, are you?" the man said and Ves took a step closer. That voice… "Oh, gods, Vessy? Is that you?"

"Vessy?" Roche murmured.

"Evan…You're alive..." Evan dropped his axe and held his gazed fixed on her.

"You look…" he examined her short hair and multitude of weapons strapped to her body, "…different. Come on up to the house, both of you." They walked toward a large house that looked like it had been pieced together over many generations. "So, ah, what do you do now?"

"I'm a soldier in Kovir."

"Kovir? You're a long way from home." Evan turned his back to Roche but kept a watchful eye on him. "Are you, you know, alright, Vessy?"

"Yes. This is Vernon Roche. He's my…"

"Commander." Roche supplied giving her a pointed look but Ves would not be put off.

"…husband." Evan stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face them both.

"Him? Your husband? He's old enough to be your da!"

"I'm not that bloody old!" Roche drew himself up and the two men stood staring hard at one another. It seemed to bother Roche that the young man before him was the man Ves was to marry all those years ago, and Evan behaved as if he still had a stake in her.

"The two of you can slug it out later if you want but right now, we could use a little help." Evan gave one last grimace at Roche before tearing his gaze away.

"Fine." Inside they found a warm fire and a lovely red haired woman tending the pot. Evan gestured for them to take a seat at the table. He introduced his wife, Evangeline. Roche nodded to the woman and grimaced as he sat.

"You've been hurt," she said putting down her spoon and reaching for a basket on the shelf. "Here, let me see…" She knelt beside Roche and opened his ripped uniform to tend the knife wound in his side.

"This is Eva's family farm. Each generation added on to the house and her grandfather's hobby was building furniture. House if full of it." Evan indicated the finely carved table they say at. His mood became more somber as he continued. "That night, I managed to escape but was badly burned on my side and back. I got as far as I could before collapsing in a field. Eva's brother found me the next morning and she nursed me back to health. After I had healed up, I gathered some men from the neighboring villages and we went back and buried the dead. I tried to identify everyone but it was next to impossible…We made a mass grave and Eva planted things to keep away the corpse eaters." Evan paused as the pain of that horrible night flashed through his eyes. He looked up at Ves when his vision had cleared. "What about you? What happened to you?" Ves thought for a moment before answering and felt a gentle nudge at her boot. The pain and fear she expected to well up did not come.

"They took me captive. For three years."

"Vessy, you can't mean…?" Evan asked in horror. "How did you escape?"

"I didn't. The Scoia'tael got a taste of their own medicine when they were raided by the Temerian Blue Stripes."

"I hope that pointy eared bastard got what was coming to him."

"He did." Roche said sternly.

"How do you know?" Evan asked, impatiently. Roche really didn't like this guy. Eva finished with her bandaging and he leaned forward on the table.

"Because I cut his throat from pointy ear to pointy ear and watched him bleed out. I led the Blue Stripes then and my men and I were very good at what we did. We took Ves back to our camp and made her one of us. She has fought beside me for almost a decade." Evan leaned back and nodded.

"I see," he looked back and forth between them.

"You see nothing. It wasn't like that. Not then." Eva placed bowls before them all before taking her own seat. They ate in silence. Upon finishing, Roche pushed back and stood.

"If you have a spare blade you could part with it would be much appreciated." Evan gave a grudging nod.

"In the barn. Come on. There is a grindstone as well." Evan and Roche moved toward the door but Roche felt a soft touch on his arm. He looked back at Ves and was comforted by the love he saw in her eyes.

The men walked to the barn in silence. They were both just brimming with the urge to beat one another. Evan was tense because Ves was to have been his but she wound up with a bastard like Roche. It wasn't that he didn't love his wife, he did, but Ves was still part of the _other_ life.

"So, tell me, how long did it take you abuse your power over her?" Evan asked as casually as if he had asked about the weather. If Roche hadn't been in such pain already, he would have taught this young farmer a much-needed lesson but he decided to be honest instead.

"Never. I never viewed her that way. At least not until the last couple of years. She had a natural talent and I wanted it and since she had nowhere else to go, we trained her. She became the best soldier I had and my Lieutenant. We've been together through some very bad times. And, if it's any of your business, she pursued me. We married just over a year ago. We have a son together."

"You are too old for her." Evan persisted.

"I told her that but it didn't matter. What exactly is your interest in her anyway? You have a wife." The farmer sagged and relented.

"It's just…that night…everything changed. Everyone was gone, dead. I was so lost and I never got the chance to fight back against those that took from me. Seeing Vessy again, just drug all that back." Roche considered the man before him. Ves had never once seemed to dwell on the suffering and loss. But then again, she had been able to hunt and kill Scoia'tael by the hundreds. She'd had her revenge.

"I spent my life in service of Temeria and now in Kovir to put a stop to that kind of terrorizing. We'll be out of here by nightfall." Evan nodded sadly and climbed into the loft returning with a rusty blade. Roche accepted it and sat at the grindstone to hone the rough edge. Evan left him and returned to the house only to meet Ves halfway.

"He says you pursued him." Evan said bluntly.

"I did, though it wasn't until recently. Thought he was too old for me."

"He said that. You're so beautiful. Wasn't there anyone else? He's just so…" He couldn't find the right word to describe Roche. Few people could. He tended to rub almost everyone the wrong way.

"There could have been but I am a soldier and nothing or no one could change that. Roche never expected me to change what I had become. And he never once looked down at me because I am a woman or pitied me for what I had gone through. He made me strong after three years of living in torment and fear. I gave him my best for years and my best turned into something else." Evan nodded in acceptance and continued to the house alone.

A short while later, Evangeline joined them, carrying a mug of tea. Roche had finished with his sword and took the beverage she handed to him.

"You're in a great deal of pain. This will help."

"Thank you. How did you know?"

"I studied to be a healer. People come to me from all over. Look, I am sorry about Evan. He's not normally so combative. That night…he still has nightmares. He has wondered for years if anyone else survived. He never thought it would be Ves. There is a mage two villages over. He works as a simple healer but I believe he can help you. Goes by the name Norman. You can take the horse. I'll fetch it back later." Eva left them as the sun sunk below the horizon. Roche downed his tea and set the cup aside while Ves readied the horse. They rode bare back with Ves in front. Roche leaned heavily on her as the pain took its toll.

After a brief doze, Roche woke as they entered the village Eva had spoken of. It was late but there were still people about. Ves stopped the horse and inquired after the healer called Norman. The villager took one look at Roche and directed them accordingly.

"I must look pretty bad." He muttered. Ves found the house and they dismounted, tying the horse by the door. Roche rapped heavily on the door. A grey bearded man answered, but only opened the door a crack.

"Who are ye? What ye want?"

"We're looking for the healer, Norman," Ves said. The wary face peered at them through squinted eyes.

"Ye look like soldiers."

"We are but…" the door started to close but Roche pushed it open.

"Look, we know you are a mage. Eva sent us. We need your help. Please." Norman sighed and opened the door for them to enter then closing it tightly behind.

"I suppose I can drop the country bumpkin act. What is it that you require?"

"You do realize that Radovid is dead, right?" Roche asked.

"I am well aware of that. However, there are those that would still have mages burned, hung, or drawn and quartered. I have settled myself here safely. Eva is the only one who knows who I really am; what I really am. Your accent is Temerian but you wear the colors of the Thyssen kings."

"I am from the village east of here that was burned. Vernon served King Foltest before we wound up in Kovir."

"Ah, Vernon Roche. I have heard of you. You seem a little less imposing than I thought you'd be."

"Yes, well, being tortured tends to do that to a man." Roche said as he sat uninvited. Ves told him their tale and asked if he could help. Norman thought for a few minutes.

"I believe I can. But I will have to send you back the way you came." Norman pulled a ceremonial knife from a drawer as well as a roughhewn white stone. From another he pulled a salve and bandages. Taking Ves by the arm, he cut her and squeezed blood into a bowl then treated and bandaged the wound. On the floor, he proceeded to make the same symbols that Jareth had.

"This is powerful magic. I'm impressed that there is anyone around who can do this anymore. What was his name?"

"Jareth."

"Yes. I believe I have read something about a mage with that name. If he is still alive, he is very old indeed. Stand here, if you please. You will have to hold him close for it work for him as well." Ves wrapped her arms around Roche's neck as he held her waist. The mage began his incantation and the room filled with light. Roche closed his eyes as their lips met and the room faded around them.

 ** _Temerian Camp_**

The camp was quiet though nearly every man was still awake. The Kovir soldiers had cleaned up the dead man and sat waiting for their commander to return. Despite people's general dislike of him, Roche engendered a loyalty the likes of which only kings could dream. Geralt, too, sat waiting patiently as ever. He'd had lots of practice. Jareth stood in the same spot he had when Ves disappeared. His staff still glowed and pulsed with power.

Suddenly there was a flash from the blue stone and before the waiting army appeared Roche and Ves, wrapped in one another's arms and fully involved in a deep kiss. The light faded and Jareth sat back with a smile as the pair of lovers remained completely unaware. Geralt cleared his throat. Roche and Ves parted then looked around them. They were back.

"Oh, thank gods," Roche said then completely collapsed.

* * *

Roche woke with a start as the sky outside his tent turned to light. Sitting up he rubbed his head as someone entered. He felt Ves' hands touch him and leaned into her.

"Glad to see you up." Jareth stood leaning on his staff, looking weary. "I managed to undo the damage Dethmold did to you. You should feel hale and hearty, if only a little tired. The Redanians are preparing to leave as well as your crew. Are you up for it?"

"Don't have much choice, do I? But, tell me, what about Anais?" Roche stood without pain even though he was still exhausted.

"She is well and safe. The young Queen apparently has learned to throw knives at some point," Jareth said with a chuckle. "You have succeeded, Roche. Your dream of a free Temeria has been realized. After this, few will make a move against her. Especially in light of the recent unity of the northern leaders. You can return home with your head held high."

"Yes," Ves said. "Let's go home." Roche looked down at her and realized that, finally, home meant something other than Temeria.

"Let's."

* * *

The armies made their way back to the Free City of Novigrad. The high walls were a wonderful sight to behold and many a man breathed a sigh of relief. Making their way through the streets, they made the docks and Roche's men boarded their ship, eager to be off.

Roche was also grateful to be returning home now that the mission was over. But he had some unfinished business with a certain Redanian soldier. Searching the boards, he found his quarry and walked up behind the hulking man, tapping him hard on the shoulder. When the soldier turned around, Roche punched him in the jaw. The man staggered and came after Roche but Roche was quicker and smarter and proceeded to teach him a very hard lesson. When he could no longer get up, Roche stood over him his boot on his throat. The soldier looked up at the disheveled Koviri Commander as raucous laughter echoed down to him. Damn that Volos.

"You do NOT disrespect my Lieutenant," and he left him lying on the brick and boards and headed for his ship. The man continued to lay there dumbfounded that he had just received such a beating. Jareth appeared in his line of sight, a smile on his face.

"Well, I did tell you to follow orders and not to mess around with Roche."

"He said it didn't matter."

"No, he said it didn't matter _right now_. There are some things a man like Roche won't let slide." Jareth straightened and watched as Roche walked up the gangway to Ves waiting at the top. He barked orders and the ship's crew jumped into action, pulling in the ropes that bound the vessel and hoisting sails.

"Where to Commander?" The ship's captain asked. Roche looked at Ves as she leaned on the side looking up at him.

"Home, Captain. It's time to go home."


End file.
